


Borne Of Blood, Thicker Than Water

by J_EnotsoLovely



Category: One Piece
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sports, Angst, Bullshit Explanations, Canon events but not in canon occurence, Canon-Typical Violence, Doctors & Physicians, Drugs, Extortion, Falling In Love, First Meetings, Gangs, Gen, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Medicinal Drug Use, Medicine, Minor Monkey D. Luffy/Trafalgar D. Water Law, Molestation, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Not Beta Read, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Pretty much the timeline is out of wack, Racing, Science, Secrets, Singing, Sports, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Track AU, Track and Field, Unethical Experimentation, Unethical Medicine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:42:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27419719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_EnotsoLovely/pseuds/J_EnotsoLovely
Summary: "Hey." Zoro began, looking up at the blonde with a penetrating gaze. "Why do you run track?""To get away." He answered promptly, mouth slamming shut as he realized, too late what he said. Seeing no judgement in the racers eyes, he shrugged. "Just...to escape, you know? Sometimes, its okay to run. I can only fight for so long." Sanji ducked his head, hiding behind the bang as best he could, not want to meet those amber orbs. "I'll get tired. And thats when they'll get me."They were silent for a while, sun beaming down on them, even her harsh rays seeming to judge. Sanji let out a dry laugh, ridiculing the absurdness of it all. "Sorry, that must be a lot. Coming from a stranger.""Let's not be strangers then." Came the simple response, and all the chef could do was stare.((Chapter 7 contains Archive Warnings))
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Roronoa Zoro & Vinsmoke Sanji, Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 145
Kudos: 95





	1. So You Think You Can Run

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to try to write the entire story before I post it, but I wanted to put the first chapter, just to see the reception it gets!

_Breath._

In.

..Out.

He can see it in his mind's eye, the finish line. The gauzy white fabric billowing in the wind and he raised his arms up, allowing the wind to guide his last few steps into the white strip's welcoming embrace. The blood rushing in his ears blocked his sense of sound as he ran, loving the way the sun beat down on his skin, warming him to the core. He felt a slight restriction as his body met the one thing blocking his way.

Blocking his victory.

There was a push, a pull, and a snap as the white fabric protested, before giving in to his demand, and breaking in two.

_Breath._

In.

..Out.

He flung open his cerulean eyes and slowed down his run, jogging lightly until his momentum lessened enough for him to come to a stop and surveyed the still growing crowd to his left.

His fans.

Slowly he lifted up his right arm, left one kneeling down as the braced himself on his knees to catch his breath. His chest was heaving from the amount of energy he exerted and the crowd was silent, watching in anticipation as he brought his arm to its peak, pale skin slick with sweat and glistening in the morning sun.

"Number 04! Vinsmoke Sanji wins again!!!" The sports announcer yelled into his microphone.

He tried not to wince. 

He hated that name.

The silence maintained a beat longer, then everyone screamed, their cheers deafening. He felt a wave of satisfaction roll over his body. Another job well done. "Aren't I perfect?" He asked the large group of people, flashing the mysterious smirk that made fans dub him "Stealth Black".

"Wow, the Vinsmoke Institution protegee is on a roll this season. What a great way to start..."  
The announcer's voice trailed off into the background as Sanji jogged over to where his competitor was. It was a short boy, maybe a year or two younger than him with fluffy pink hair and a chubby stature. Said male was laying on the grass by the track, face up, his eyes shut and chest pumping.

"Hey kid, you okay?" The blonde asked, somewhat worried. This wouldn't be the first time a competitor over worked themselves in an attempt to beat him.

Not that it ever happened.

He let out a small sigh of relief as the kid's lids fluttered open, revealing dark brown eyes. Sanji backed away to give him room to sit and the boy did, groaning in pain as he shot the older male a rueful smile.

"Wow, you really _ARE_ fast."

Sanji chuckled, straightening himself, and reaching an arm out, smiling happily when the other boy clasped it, accepting his assistance. Too many times, his attempts to help were rejected, kindness taken as him being obnoxious.

"You are too." he replied, meaning it. "You just aren't cut out for long distance runs that's all. 3000 meters is a long ass way to travel on foot after all." He finished. The kid just laughed, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. "Thanks so much! It was an honor, Stealth Black!" The boy shouted, making Sanji grin at the nickname.

"Yea, I bet." The blonde replied. In the distance, Sanji could hear the announcer still prattling on.

Seriously...

Sometimes Usopp talked _way_ too much.

He spotted the pink haired boy walking off towards the exit gate, heading to a taller kid with floppy short black hair and an inhumanly large smile. A good friend from the looks of it.

"Hey, kid!" He yelled to the retreating figure. The boy jumped as if slapped, before turning around.

"What's your name?" Sanji asked, biting back a laugh at the shocked expression. "I-it's Koby."

He filed the name in the back of his mind.

"Koby, huh? Well okay, I'll be seeing you then? Keep training and in the next 3,000 meter race we have you just might give me a run for my money."

Koby's eyes widened and his smile was so huge that Sanji was worried the poor kid's cheeks would fall off. "Thank you!" The boy yelled before scampering off into the crowd.

Usopp was still screaming into the mic when the blonde tuned back in and he sighed, wondering when the announcer would finish so that he could go home and sink into a warm back.

Running was his life, it was kind of ironic how the thing that stole his oxygen made him feel the most exhilarated and energized, and the feeling of sweat dripping off his face was gratifying, a sign of hard work, but now his body was dry and the pale teen just felt sticky. "With Stealth Black on their side, Vinsmoke Institution will be going far once again this year and bodes the question. Who, if anyone, can stop him."

The crowd lapsed into silence, patrons all looking at each other with shared expressions of confusion and faint amusement.

 _Yeah right, as if anyone could beat the Vinsmoke boy_. They appeared to think in comical agreeance.

Sanji felt his shoulders sag a bit in happiness, he could sense his freedom comin--

"I wanna try." A loud, almost bored voice said, slicing through the contemplative silence of the crowd and startling Sanji out of his stupor.

 _Is this a fucking joke?_ He wondered, glancing around in search of the person who said such a foolish thing. People posted all the time on social media, claiming that they could beat the famous Vinsmoke Sanji---but never before had someone actually grown the balls to challenge him outright.

Motion caught his attention to his right and he turned, watching in fascination as the spectators parted, revealing a tan boy striding confidently towards the track, ignoring the shouts of "You don't know what you're doing kid." and "Get out of there while you can, Stealth Black is going to mop the floor with you."

Sanji blushed lightly. He didn't mind fans cheering for him but it felt somewhat odd to hear them talk trash to another person. The blonde watched in interest as the other male hopped over the wire fence that separated the people from the racers---hardly using his hands to brace, and Sanji let out a low whistle, mildly impressed. It wasn't an easy jump by far, seeing as the pole was at least four feet tall. The boy was a show off if Sanji ever saw one, studying the way the teen walked, an easy smile and swaggering steps, as though the world bowed to him and him alone.

The pale male scoffed.

It wasn't like he himself was any better.

The other teen stopped in front of him and Sanji took the time to glance over the lunatic.

The guy looked good in what would have been ridiculous on anyone else, wearing some punk type of apparel. A cropped black bomber jacket and a dark blue tank, with dark green fitted joggers that were snug around the boys' toned legs, made up his outfit.

He had honey shaded eyes that glowed golden in the sun---a color that seemed to suck Sanji in and he quickly tore his gaze away, certain that if kept staring, he'd become trapped.

The pale boy took in the teen's spiky black hair, muddled with(you guessed it) green highlights.

"What do you say, care for a quick run? 800 meters is fine, since you just ran." He teen's voice was deep and melodic, yet somewhat childish, a fact that went to odds with his semi-imposing figure. The teen felt wild, but calm, and yet somehow dangerous at the same time. Sanji had seen the tan teen's determined glare and erect posture, not at all phased by the devastating win the Vinsmoke heir gained. If anything, he looked... _excited._

Sanji smirked, tilting his head towards the ground with a mischievous expression. 

"Alright then, _Nature-boy_ , let's have us a race."

The people cheered, the once-leaving spectators glued back to their seat, ready for the spectacle he was about to perform.

He rolled his shoulders, loosening the stiffening muscles and jogged to the start line, putting the crowd to his back. He crouched down, his right leg straight back and left leg bent as his fingertips grazed the ground along the white horizontal line painted across the floor. He watched from his peripheral as the spiky haired teen mirrored his movements, taking up space to the left of him.

Sanji laughed, strangely thrilled.

Looked like his bath would have to be postponed.

The man with the starting pistol stepped forward.

_Three._

The man raised his arms and the people hushed, a delicious silence.

_Two._

Sanji watched as the proctor's finger inched towards the trigger.

_One._

_Get ready._

The shot fired.

_Go._

It takes the average runner around 0.18 seconds to hear the sound waves emanating from a starting pistol and begin running.

Sanji can respond immediately.

He pushed off his back foot and sprinted away, dully registering crowd cheering his pseudonym. The blonde felt his legs protest, not wanting to continue after tasting that bit of relief that came when he finished his match with Koby, but he ignored it, shoving the throbbing pain into the deepest recesses of his mind. He had been trained since early childhood to ignore the aching feeling in his legs.

 _"Pain is what you make it."_ His father's voice rang in his head, unyielding and without a shred of sympathy.

Sanji gritted his teeth and kept running, unwilling to give in to his body's demands just yet.

He could run 12 miles at 8mph without pausing to break more than once.

He was the _best_.

The Vinsmoke Sanji.

_This is nothing._

Then a flash of golden caught his attention and the pale teen looked over to his left, making eye contact with the tan male, who was smiling broadly at him. Olive muscles gleamed in the sunlight, slick with slight perspiration.

"Heh. You heard the shot almost instantly didn't you, Curly?" The teen asked, his breaths coming a bit heavier due to talking. "That's impressive, I was taking my jacket off so it took me a bit longer to start running. I actually had to work really hard to catch up. Think I almost pulled something, to be honest."

Sanji laughed, his voice like cold steel.

Seriously?

_Who is this kid?_

Who does he _THINK_ he his?

"You saying that you would have been ahead of me if you didn't take off your jacket?" He asked venomously, the competition stirring in his blood.

The pale boy watched as the other male's eyes hardened and tan face molded into a smug smirk.

"Watch me." Was the only reply Sanji got.

Because then the teen was gone.

The blonde growled as he was left alone, other taking the lead glancing of his shoulder to give an arrogant two-fingered salute. 

_Asshole._

Without realizing it, Sanji found his eyes drawn to the bottom of the teens shoes, curious about what color they were. 

There was a belief in the track and field universe, that the faster you were, the better you were, the brighter your spikes.

Sanji's spikes were blue.

Bright blue.

Loud.

Obnoxious.

And _exactly_ like him.

Age 10:

_"What's that Number 3? You want to run in track?"_

_"Yeah, yeah! It's just sooo cool! The runners are like woosh and zoom! It's all so fast. And then there's the high jump and pole jump where all the people kind of just fling themselves in the air like they're flying! It's totally awesome to watch!"_

_"That so? Well, have you spoken to father about this yet?"_

_*shuffles feet slightly, shifting from side to side*_

_"I see. I'll talk to the Judge for you, but you need to learn how to speak up for yourself."_

_"Thanks Reiju!"_

Age 14:

_Sanji flew across the room, his body slamming against the basement wall. He swallowed a scream as the impact shoved the syringe deeper into his arm. His aniki---_ Ichiji _\---stared down impassively at the blonde teen. Sanji tried to move, tried to sit up, tried to do something, anything._

_He didn't budge an inch._

Damn it.

_Whatever Ichiji stabbed him with, it was slowing his reaction time._

_He could barely manage to dodge the swift kick his older brother aimed at his face._

_The Judge stood above his son, glaring down menacingly._

_"This is no one's fault but your own. You're arrogant, without doing anything to earn that arrogance."_

_His voice rumbled with an unspoken threat and Sanji immediately felt frightened._

_He could deal with Yonji._

_He could deal with Reiju._

_Even Niji on a good day._

_But his father.... His father was something else entirely._

_"You're the one who told me that you didn't want to be an asset in advancing the science medical field. That you'd rather fill a persons belly than enhance their body so food no longer becomes necessary. It was a pitiful excuse to mask your soft heart. But I allowed it. Because I **thought** you'd become strong."_

_Sanji gritted his teeth as he dodged another sharp kick form Ichiji, the deadly point on his shoe just barely missing cerulean eyes._

_He hated that he was so weak._

_It was sickening._

_His fist tightened, enough to tear the skin open on his palm, but it didn't matter._

He _didn't matter, but his mother and sister did._

_And he wouldn't leave them._

_Slowly, he centered himself, calmed his nerves._

_One day, if he was lucky, it'd be one day soon._

He would kill them.

_He'd kill them all._

_And then he'd live his life happily, the blood of his family not a stain so much as a trophy._

_Sanji's pupils shrunk, losing grip on sanity._

_Only two people mattered, and he would protect them._

_He would._

_He would._

_He_ **would.**

 _And_ damn _those who tried to stop him._

_The Judge turned to go, large hands knitted together behind his waist, hidden by a flourish of long platinum blonde hair._

_He stopped at the door, sparing one last glance to his failure of a son and his eyes widened in pleasant surprise._

_Sanji was no longer writhing around pitifully, but rather sat still with a composure that was devastatingly calm._

_The Judge smiled. Perhaps Sanji had some use after all._

_There was no doubt._

_"Heighten the dosage of the drug. He needs to learn how to react faster, how to not let anything disrupt him and to keep pushing forward at all cost. This isn't a punishment Sanji."_

_The man paused, then continued._

_"This isn't a punishment. Though I strongly suggest that you keep your loses to a minimum."_

After that, Sanji never lost a match, never even came close to a tie.

He trained.

In track.

For cooking.

More than once he considered poisoning their food.

It was inevitable.

The inevitable freedom of the two who mattered most to him in the world.

And in time, he learned to enjoy running, even with the life of his mother on the line.

It shamed him to admit that sometimes, he forgot about her.

When he was on the track, he lost sight of all his troubles.

With that long stretch of ground, everything wrong with him, with his life, faded away and one thing became absolutely certain.

His _victory._

"Wow, this mysterious challenger had just taken the lead, we haven't seen anything like this in _years_ folks. Pinch me, because this _can't_ be real! Stealth Black is on the ropes!" Usopp screamed into the mic, her voice breaking the mirage and flinging Sanji back into reality.

He hadn't thought of **_her_ **in months, he hadn't needed too.

Now she was at the forefront of his mind, destroying the carefully constructed barrier he put in place.

_Shit._

Sanji slowed down his run, before coming to a complete stop and shutting away his azure gaze.

He wiped his face and took two deep breaths in to steady his heart. He had already disliked the muscular jackass, but now? Now the guy would have to be _destroyed_.

Resting a hand lightly on pale knees, Sanji smiled, determined and strangely exhilarated.

 _I can't believe this brat is making me use it_. He thought, sweeping the blonde locks from his face, until they spiked up abnormally as though struck by lightning.

He opened his eyes, revealing slit irises.

They were sharp.

Electrifying.

 _Better prepare yourself Nature Boy. Cause there's no way in_ hell _I'm letting my sister die. Not that I'd let you win anyways._

He took off running, feet feeling as though they were on fire, hardly touching the ground. 

Bright blue spikes flashed in the mid-day sunlight, an azure blur.

It was **her** favorite color.


	2. Meet and Greet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I gave up on trying to type the entire fic. just not how i roll. xD
> 
> Quick reminders that there are NO powers in this fic LOL  
> there will be some fucking around with DNA and stuff though. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy~

_The dirt crunched under his shoes, littered with small pebbles and bits of broken off cement from the sidewalk nearby. His toes flexed and he imagined the pleasant burn that would've spiked in the sole of his feet, had he chosen to run barefoot. The sun beamed down, merciless in her treatment, and its rays soaked through his black tank top, absorbed and held in the fabric._

_It was fucking annoying._

_The material of his pants rubbed uncomfortably against his leg, sticking in some places and billowing in others. The wind blew his hair back and his his earrings clanked together. There was a slow building ache in his chest, a thudding pain in the back of his mind, a growing reminder that his body was reaching a point that it needed more oxygen than he was currently capable of providing._

_Zoro couldn't remember the last time he had to run this fast, this soon. Or rather, what had compelled him to take the lead so early on, rather than bide his time and strike when it was least expected, the way he normally did._

_It was something about the blonde. The way his face seemed to be stuck permanently in that idiotic smug expression, and made the tan teen want to see it erased. There was something utterly intoxicating about pitting a person's confidence against his own, and then watching as that confidence inevitably crumbled. It was even better when faced with a person like the Vinsmoke boy, who showered himself in praise like it was healing water and oozed arrogance until he **reeked** of the stench._

_Simply put, Sanji Vinsmoke was the kind of person that Zoro hated most._

_Unfortunately for the green haired teen, it was also the type of person that intrigued him like no other._

_Zoro never claimed to have good taste, just excellent instincts. The blonde was strong, disastrously so. The racer could sense it, just by watching how the other breathed, and carried himself. By the way that singular blue eye scrutinized everything, taking it all in, even as he appeased the crowed with a wide, guileless smile. As much as Zoro disliked it, he couldn't help but respect that sort of awareness. It was an attribute coveted in swordsmanship. To be relaxed but alert, calm, but on edge. To be strong without having to showcase such power. Zoro bared his teeth in what could pass for a smile, pushing himself even harder, gaze narrowed against the dripping sweat._

_He wanted to rip that strength out of Sanji and break it over his knees._

_The blood in his ears drowned out everything else, it rushed in and out like a wave. High tides and low tides, a rocking sensation that matched the tempo of his continuous steps. The sun burned his skin, the breeze made his eyes water, his arms propelled him forward, faster, **faster** , until everything was blurred and meshed into a messy mural of colors. _

_There was nothing but the ground and space of ahead of him. There was nothing but the white tape that marked his next win. There was nothing but the smug satisfaction that he'd be able grasp and utilize the moment he crossed the finish line. There was nothing but him, Roronoa Zoro, and victory._

_There was a person in front of him._

_There was a person **in front of him.**_

_He stared wide-eyed as Sanji Vinsmoke dashed past, obnoxious golden bang blown back to reveal an electric gaze and a small smirk._

_It felt being on an escalator, or trapped within a time warp, never getting closer to his goal, the blonde bounding away, though not before flashing a two fingered salute._

_Fucking tease. Flashing his own signal back at him._

_His concentration slipped, rushing blood quieting down for a while, long enough for the tan teen to hear a rambunctious yell. "RUN ZORO!!! GOOOOOOOOOO!!"_

_Damn his best friend. Now he really had to win, or else Luffy would talk and make fun of him for fuck knew how long._

_But then, Luffy would make fun of him regardless, for getting lost ~~the buildings moved around but no one believed him~~ or not doing homework, ~~they didn't even attend the same fucking school anymore but it was inevitable.~~_

_It wasn't that he prided himself on being intelligent, seeing as he was proficient in only a few things anyways. But nothing irritated him more than not understanding, or at the very least grasping a concept. So he was pissed that it had come to this._

_Roronoa Zoro was confused._

_Really confused and grudgingly impressed._

_One second ago, he had been winning._

_This was his race._

_"Stealth Black for the win. But that was obvious from the start. Be honest, who doubted the Vinsmoke track star for a second there? I sure know I did." The announcer's voice screamed over the microphone making Zoro twitch in mild irritation._

_The crowd's cheers were deafening, screaming Stealth Black as though the pale teen were a god._

_But then maybe he was._

_Zoro's head was still spinning, reeling in shock from his devastating loss. His blood was still spiking, as though he were in the midst of the race, white tape in sight, and a clear win._

_But it was stolen._

_Taken as though he were a defenseless child, it made him ball his hands into a fist, shaking with unparalleled fury and pleasant surprised. He had known that the other teen's arrogance was well deserved-- even against his urge to spit in distaste-- but it was another thing altogether to experience such monstrosity._

_It had been exhilarating. Intoxicating. A feeling that he'd have to experience again._

_As if hearing his thoughts, the pale teen turned back and smirked at the green haired boy, face showered in sweat. The blonde hair stuck to his angular face in a way that was disgustingly attractive and "Stealth Black" gave the crowd a winning smile, chest heaving and cheeks rosy._

_Though his eyes were closed, there was a look that went deeper than just triumph. It ran deep, downwards quirk of the eyebrow hinting at something like relief. But the expression was gone almost as fast as it came and Zoro had no time to wonder about its true significance._

_"Guess you didn't have to worry about taking off your jacket after all huh, since it didn't help. Sorry to break it to you Nature Boy, but you never even had a chance. And you'll never have a chance." The words came out haughtily, paired with an obnoxious hair flip, that made Zoro growl lowly, his opinion of the idiot seeming to be in constant motion like a pendulum. "Unless of course you're too scared to try again."_

_Had it been anyone else, Zoro would have been offended, but while he had terrible tastes, he trusted his instincts, and they told him that this arrogant kid who went against everything he stood for was more than the smart mouth he had._

_"Yeah maybe you're right." The tan teen drawled, deciding to concede defeat just this once. "But I'm not someone who's known for giving up. And regardless, it was fun." He shrugged amicably, turning away to face the spot where Luffy was haphazardly tying his limbs against the wire fence, Koby trying in vain to drag the flexible high schooler back. "Let's race again sometime, okay?"_

_He walked off as the silence thickened, to the point where Zoro though he wouldn't get an answer and there was no point staying if they were only going to stare at each other like statues._

_But then the words came, so low that he wasn't even sure they were meant for him._

_".....You're on."_

"Yeah! So Zoro lost! You should've seen it, that Stealth Black guy was insane!" The 17 year old yelled, food flying from his mouth as he reached over the table and stole a bread stick from Zoro's plate, moving away quickly before the teen could stab him with a fork. Nami waved her hand languidly, brushing off stray bits off mush and rubbing it back on Luffy shirt, who just flashed them a wide grin. His red vest was crumpled, nearly destroyed by countless wrinkles, riding up to expose a lithe back. The racer just shook his head, reaching a hand over and pulling the shirt down, covering the exposed skin. 

"Can we _not_ talk about that guy." The 19 year old growled, passing a napkin to Luffy, who just put it in his lap, the slip of paper fluttering down to the ground as he continued to shovel food down his throat at an ungodly rate. Zoro straightened his black hoodie, which had been displaced by the whirlwind of a 17 year old next to him.

"But Zooorroo, it was so cool! He was so fast." His best friend whined, drawing attention from the other patrons in the small cafe. The three of them were sitting in a booth, managing to get one by the window. The filtered through the half open blinds, shedding lines of light onto the friends, one lighting up Luffy's eye as he leaned back on Zoro, body half turned to face the clear glass, staring out at all the patrons. Nami's normally dark ginger hair glowed a flaming orange, stream of light traveling down to accentuate her showing cleavage, short sleeved black v-neck not leaving much to imagination. 

"Take a picture. It'll last longer." The red-head purred, sensually wrapping her lips around the red straw of her pineapple-mango smoothie, with a hint of lemon for citrus. Zoro hated that he knew that. 

"No thanks." He replied gruffly, mind still far off, on a race that happened more than two weeks ago, on a whim, but had him wanting desperately to scratch this...this _itch._ "That scary face of yours is already the catalyst for a shit ton of my nightmares."

The words were harsh, but tone soft, the way it always was between him and Nami. That was how they worked, always had, and likely always would be that way. Not that he minded. She was feisty, and he could appreciate that. And he didn't treat her like some delicate flower, didn't view her with pity like everyone else did, when they found out about her past. 

"Aww, hear that Luff? He dreams of me. How sweet." She hummed, a devious twinkle in her dark eyes, hardly a shadow lurking from the dip shit that haunted her. Ridiculous, the whole lot of them, for thinking that she wasn't stronger for her hardships. And shame on the idiotic fool who thought that he wouldn't cut off and bury the hands of the next person who even dared to put their filthy palms on her. 

"She's fine Zoro." Luffy whispered, in a rare, but not so uncommon moment of startling intuition. The racer felt his shoulders relax, wondering when he tensed them and a gave a loud snort and a nod. 

"Of course she is." Zoro scoffed, rolling his neck and eliciting a satisfying crack as he reached across the table to give Nami a light punch on the shoulder, right where her recently made tattoo was. "The witch can kick ass."

"Damn right I can." Nami sang with a lilt, mouth making a pop was she released the straw. "And with the way you've been teaching me, I'll have you flat on your ass in no time."

Zoro laughed, a little mean one as his mind flashed with images of that night. Storming the assholes' house, Luffy breaking down the front door with his bare hands, hinges nothing more than a faint memory. He remembered the way his wound reopened, burning like hell and how exhilarating it felt. He remembered watching his best friend with a leering grin as he choked Arlong until the man passed out, blood pooling from a head gash like a gushing river. More than anything else, he remembered Nami's relieved smile, tears streaming down her face, happiness apparent. The feeling that he'd do it all over again. And for anyone that Luffy decided was nakama.

He tugged on her short ponytail, grinning wildly when she swatted his hand away, hold on his wrist a lot stronger than before, manicured nails digging into his skin.

"As if you could." He retorted with a laugh. "You still have a long way to go."

"So do you it seems." Nami fired back, leaning so that her elbows rested on the edge of the table, breast flushed against the edge. "Who's this guy you lost to?"

Luffy, who had been drifting into a light sleep-- somehow still managing to shovel food into his mouth-- sat up abruptly, not even wincing at the uncomfortable position, instead tilting his head.

"His name was Vinny, um, Vimblo, nonono thats not it." The 17 year old muttered, face beginning to turn red from over exertion. 

"Vinsmoke." Zoro helpfully supplied, unable to take watching the raven head's suffering any longer. Nami's eyes widened to saucepans, surprise evident on her face, pert lips shaped in an O. 

"Sanji Vinsmoke. Like _the_ Sanji Vinsmoke?" She whispered furiously, looking frantically around the cafe as though the blonde was suddenly going to appear out of nowhere. "Why didn't I know about this before hand?" The words were hissed, chocolate gaze pinning him in the worn seat.

Zoro sniffed, "I don't make it a habit to talk about my losses. And Luffy already told you that it was Stealth Black, it was like the first thing he said since meeting us here." 

"Yeah, _Stealth Black_ , not Sanji Vinsmoke." The red-head glared, poking Zoro hard in the chest. 

"Does it make a difference?" Zoro growled, eye twitching as Nami gave him an incredulous stare. "They're the same person."

"You idiot." She scoffed, flagging the waiter to receive the check. "If someone calls you Demon, it isn't the same as us calling you Zoro right?"

He thought about it, considering the words carefully. Demon, it was his moniker for both track and kendo, often said in reverence. He grunted in acknowledgement. 

"Exactly." She said primly. "So tell me, did you meet the real deal or his mask."

Zoro shrugged, thinking of the name he heard spoken most, that of which being the pseudonym. "Stealth Black, I guess."

Her shoulders slumped, looking much too disappointed for his taste. Luffy yawned, clearly over the subject at hand, and turned back to the side, sinking down in the chair until his head rested in Zoro's lap, legs crossed and propped up against the booth wall, back flat on the seat. 

The waiter came over, a slim boy, with shaggy brown hair, and green eyes. He opened his mouth, presumably to say something about the 17 year old, but stopped short at the piercing glare the racer gave him, jaw shutting closed with a audible click. Through his peripheral, Zoro saw Nami's delicate fingers dip into the waiter's back pocket, lifting the wallet hidden there with a practiced air.

Zoro smirked, jerking a chin at the scrawny male, snickering silently when the teen jumped as though frightened. "Thanks." He said, genuine, offering a real smile to make up for the previous. 

The waiter-- who's name was Joseph, now that he peered closer at the name tag-- blushed and turned away, coughing lightly into his hand, action not missed by the 19 year old. Clearly Nami saw it too, if the way she began to coyly twirl her hair was any indication. "Thank you _so_ much Joseph dear." She grabbed his hand, tracing it with feather light touches. "My partner and I will discuss your... _reward._ How's that sound?" 

Joseph nodded frantically, stuttering too much to formulate proper words, let alone sentences. His face was red, and growing brighter by the second. Zoro threw in a wink for good measure, turning on the charm that he rarely used, making sure that Luffy was in full sight as he trailed suggestively up his best friend's ear. And Luffy, bless the idiot, let out a _noise._ A short mewl of contentment and the racer had to hold in his laugh as the waiters breath audibly hitched.

Nami waited until the teen was out of sight, then gave Zoro an amused stare. The light from the shades turned her eyes the color of melted chocolate. "So, how much of a discount do you think we managed to get?" 

"No clue. But it doesn't matter anyways, I'm sure we have more than enough cash to cover it." He waved loosely at the receipt. "I kind of feel bad for the poor kid."

She snorted, giving a dismissive eye-roll. "Yeah well, our meal's gonna be on the house, so I'll give a tip, the money will go right back into his wallet."

"How generous." He drawled, stroking a lazy hand through Luffy's hair, gently pulling apart the tangles, smiling as the teen sprawled as wide as the limited space would let him, not unlike a cat. 

Joseph returned, no less flustered and leaned down, whispering something in Nami's ear, to which she jumped up with an excited squeal, wrapping her arms around the waiter's waist and slipping the wallet back in undetected. She gave the teen's ass a playful smack, accompanied by a kiss on the cheek. "I owe you one." She droned. 

Zoro stood, gingerly lifting Luffy's head as he righted himself, before pulling the limp body over his shoulders. 

He ignored the commotion that followed them out of the cafe. 

The streets were busy, and bustling despite the early afternoon hour. Nami kept pace with him, step for step, occasionally pulling on his arm whenever she started to stray. ~~Damn witch couldn't walk in a straight line to save herself.~~ He watched from his peripheral as they walked, a small bounce him her movements. He eyed the way her breasts jumped, and then eyed the people who were eyeing her who should've been eyeing _him_ considering that he was carrying an entire _human body._ Zoro tried to convey the message that they would become the next unconscious creature if they fucking _kept_ staring.

"Watch out Zoro." Nami stated in a dry manner, glaring forward resolutely. "You keep looking at me like that and I'll start to think you're interested for real."

He looked away, feeling embarrassed, though her statement couldn't be any farther from the mark and she knew it. "Tch. You need a real shirt." He barked gruffly, feeling his irritation spike as she visibly bristled, giving him a leer that could _kill._

"And this isn't a _real shirt?"_ She asked venomously. "It doesn't function just like _every other shirt?"_

Zoro didn't answer, knowing that she was right. 

"I wear certain clothes because I like them. Its nice to feel nice and feel like I'm actually _attractive."_ She snipped the words out and only his pride was keeping him from flinching. "I could walk out here butt fucking _naked_ and it _still_ wouldn't be a goddamn invitation to all the sickos the world. Wearing revealing clothes, because I want to celebrate by body doesn't mean that any weird ass man or woman or trans, non-binary or _whoever the fuck--_ should just shove their dick or any other penetration tool in my vagina!" 

The last words came out in a loud shout and the racer shook his head at the people who gave them a wide birth, not wanting to get in between the raging red-head and mysterious looking thug.

"You're right." He muttered after a long stretch of silence, feeling shame prick his skin at the sexist disrespect. "Sorry."

She sighed. "Its fine, love. You were just looking out for me in that extra macho-aggressive way you tend to do."

"That obvious huh?" 

"Clearer than glass baby." She glanced down at her watch at they reached an intersection. "We got about 30 min until lunch is over, think you'll be able to lug that lump over to that god forsaken school and get back in time?"

He readjusted Luffy's weight. "Yeah, I'll be fine, but I'll hurry, fucking hell I don't Ace on my ass again." Zoro shivered. "This little shit's brothers are fucking terrifying when they want to be."

Nami gave him a quick hug, a condescending pat on the head, before gliding off. "Stay safe." 

"You too." He called, and headed in the other direction. 

Luffy woke halfway through the trip, blinking sleepily and elbowing Zoro in the back of his head. "Oi!" The teen growled with no real heat behind the words. "Watch where you're hitting me."

The 17 year old just laughed, cheek nuzzling into Zoro's hair, mumbling quietly about a mid-day snack. The racer waited patiently, continuing down the street, knowing that the inevitalble was bound to happen, in three...two...one...

"ZORO!! I HAVE SCHOOL!!!" Luffy exclaimed, clambering to the top of his head, one foot planted in his hair and another on his shoulder. Zoro cursed, swaying slightly under the rough motions. The others who happened to be on the sidewalk stared at them with varying expressions of amusement to irateness. The racer glowered at every last one of them. 

"Then go you dumbass, or you'll give poor Koby a heart attack. Its not like he can hold open that door forever." 

"Shihihihi you're right!" Luffy chuckled, before flipping and landing on the sidewalk in a low crouch, straw hat perched on top of his head. "Thanks for the help! Don't get lost on the way back."

His best friend was gone before the 19 year old could retort with his own harsh words. 

The walk back to Grand Line University was even longer than the walk to East-Blue High School. Zoro had one headphone in, head gone as he listened to a constant stream of rock, some hip hop mixed in every so often. Eminem was by far his favorite rapper, the racer able to practically taste the angry hunger that the famous rapper held. Like he was out to kill every and anyone that so much as breathed at him in an unappealing manner.

_I thought I heard a voice in my that said KILL. I had no other choice that was left except FILL._

The racer bobbed his head, feeling the adrenaline rushing through him as he began a brisk jog, feeling good, body loose and ready for a work out. Exercise was the only god he worshiped, other than the way of the sword but then that wasn't a religion as much as it was a forgotten heritage.

_They told me there were doubters who questioned my SKILL. They wanna put my style to the test, am I STILL the best. They want the crown on my head, i said, "Chill. If you want me to murder this beat then I WILL."_

He grinned viciously, not noticing how people avoided him, giving him side glances and frightened glances. He loved listening to this kind of music. It felt like filling his body with unlimited energy. 

It was freeing unbelievably so. Amazing, and refreshing. 

He jogged, arms pumping at a leisurely pace. 

A flash if disturbingly familiar blonde caught his eye as he passed by an alleyway. Zoro slowed, bumping into someone as he glanced back, eye straining to see what was in the shady area. It was really his business, whatever the hell was going on. For all he knew, the blonde was getting head from some random whore, or it wasn't even the pale fucker to begin with. 

_Enter my house of horrors with a thousand floors. Got a crown of thorns, but it won't fit around the horns._

He realized with a start that the alley was closer and groaned at the sudden understanding that his feet began to move towards the location without his permission. Fucking impulsive ass. Always doing shit without asking. So goddamn dumb. 

_Their corpses get ornamented. The coroner with a storage bin rented. To store them in and the torsos of forty women reported missin'. Distorted, twisted, this isn't no storybook ending._

The music faded into nothing but background as he took in the scene before him, seeing the blonde-- Stealth Black, backed in a corner, looking calm but tense. Too tense, hands balled into tight fists. He was surrounded by 3 other men, all of them around the same age, within a one or two year range from each other. Zoro studied the situation from a distance. It didn't feel like it would escalate to anything physical, but then again, the tension was palpable, thick enough to slice and serve. 

_This is only the beginning._

They looked like a freak show, between himself and the others, all with heads filled with different colors. He snorted at the rainbow assortment, causing 4 pairs of eyes to dig into him. 

Stealth Black lips fell open slightly, and Zoro just smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall. A feeling like protectiveness filled the racer, burning him from the inside out. With it rose a steady darkness, the one that purred whenever it sense approaching bloodshed. 

_So Lord forgive me, I'm hearing voices. I can't ignore them anymore, they're winning._

"Hey there _gentlemen."_ The swordsman greeted, craning his neck to the side, eyes fluttering as it gave a pleasurable crack. He grinned. "Any problems?" 

_I thought I heard a voice in my head that said, "Kill". I had no other choice that was left except fill._

"Because I'll gladly take care of them for you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nami and Zoro are in College  
> Luffy's still in highschool and he occasionally(all the fucking time) sneaks out to eat lunch with his two Nakama
> 
> Yo! I hope you liked it! Please let me know your thoughts!


	3. This Time I'll Win

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They exchanged numbers and Zoro left shortly after, saying that he had to go. Sanji stared at the name icon for a long time.
> 
> Marimo.
> 
> It was only after a few minutes that he realized he was smiling. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first time writing the Vinsmokes. Please excuse the likely OOC-ness of it xD
> 
> Also I'm setting a disclaimer now. Any languages used in this fic, is my the courtesy of Google Translate, so I apologize if it's incorrect.

"Roronoa Zoro, Demon of East Blue. " Ichiji droned, expressionless as ever, though Sanji didn't think he'd imagined the rising tint of anger flooding his older brothers tone.

"Aww you know me. That's flattering." The tan teen drawled with the hint of an accent-- something foreign-- a shit eating grin on his face, one that didn't reach his amber gaze, which was burning dark with fury and calculation. 

Yonji wore a matching grin, and it was eerie how similar the two looked, Yonji being a paler replica of the racer from a few weeks ago. "Ha! As if _your_ baby bitch ass could do anything."

Zoro licked his lips in a predatory fashion, the alleyway his brothers cornered him in near silent, save for the sounds of nearby cars and pedestrians. They were close enough that Sanji could hear the slight sound of music coming from the others bluetooth, ringing out lowly. "Hm, why don't you come and find out then?"

Now that he looked closer, he could see that the other had on a black hoodie and dark blue compression tights under stupidly bright green pants, even more loud than the hair. Zoro wore black combat boots and it was a sight that threw the chef off, seeing as it was the least fitting aspect of the already atrocious apparel. 

Yonji growled, talking a provoking step forward, lips pulled back to reveal pink gums in a snarl. Ichiji and Niji did nothing but smirk and move to the side, giving the two teens space to fight. 

Sanji leaned back on the wall, watching it all unfold silently, mildly relieved to see his brothers find a distraction that didn't involved pestering him incessantly. Reminding him of his _role,_ and his need to be a perfect public figure, but to not _get so cocky_ as they eloquently worded it. _"You're still just a failure. Remember that."_

He blew a stay piece of blonde hair out of his face, eyeing the racer through a lidded gaze. It was hard to see through Niji and Ichiji, but it didn't matter much regardless, with what the murderous energy flowing off the nature boy in waves. It was threatening, a sensation riddled with promises of bloodshed and missing bodies that would never get found. It was an interesting aura to be exposed to, different from the way his brothers showed their intentions. Sanji could tell that Yonji was feeling it, the instinctual thought of _danger,_ if his furrowed brow and dark grimace were anything to go by.

This...Roronoa Zoro was perilous to anyone on the wrong side of him it seemed. What a powerful ally to have. The chef wasn't one to allow himself to play damsel in distress, but seeing his siblings get their ass handed to them by a man who looked more than capable seemed like good fun. Him not having to walk around smelling like blood as his did is usual warm up stretches and run was only an added bonus. Still though, he didn't know what it was, maybe some deep linked familial bond-- or that besides Reiju, Yonji was the least hassle of his shit show of a family-- but the blonde felt compelled to warn his dear baby brother.

"Hé, numéro 4, tu es sûr de vouloir lui faire face? Il est fort." _Hey, number four, you sure you wanna face him? He's strong._

Yonji snapped, growling back, a low timbre in his voice. "Peu importe qu'il soit fort. Je vais lui botter le cul." _It doesn't matter if he's strong. I'll kick his ass._ But Sanji didn't miss the way sweat dripped down the youngest face, to slip past the black headphones around his neck and disappear into the green collard bomber jacket he wore. 

Niji stared at the two of them with an impassive glare, expression unreadable behind obnoxiously tinted shades, pointed at the end like some sort of mythical wing. He stood with arms crossed, mouth slowly opening to say something-- likely reprimand the youngest for losing his focus and to _sortir la cible-- take out the target,_ but a rambunctious laugh interrupted them, and Sanji tilted his head with a raised eyebrow. Zoro was doubled over, the tension on his face having melted to a pure, rather disturbing joy. His deep honey eyes were locked away, scrunched as the corners, regally shape nose wrinkled in satisfaction and mirth. 

"V-" The racer gasped, just barely managing to get his bearings. "Vous les idiots êtes assez divertissante." _You idiots are pretty entertaining._ The Demon recited in near perfect French, causing Sanji's eyes to raise in mild surprise. 

Sanji chose not to respond to the insult, nor the clear fact that he was also included within the insult, instead batting his lashes coyly and sticking out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. "You think I'm pretty?" He asked instead, speaking in Gaelic, because who the fuck knew Gaelic? He smirked as Zoro's mouth puckered into a tiny O. 

"Quedarías mellor cunha mordaza na boca intelixente do cu." The racer responded smugly, causing Sanji's ears to burn. He rolled his eyes to the heavens, thanking whatever god happened to be up there that he was the only one aside from Reiju who bothered to study the near extinct languages. _You'd look better with a gag in that smart ass mouth._ Sanji was certain that he hadn't misheard the provocative tone racer used. The chef was accustomed to being hit on, by stuttering fans and obsessive freaks alike, but never before had someone been so _blatant._ And still manage to withhold a sense of charm. 

Zoro straightened himself, shoving hands into his pockets, and slumping shoulders down, an easy smile on his face. His eyes still shone with cold calculation, grin just wide enough to reveal pointed canines. "Come on now. I thought we were gonna fight?" The racer practically _purred,_ blood thirst evident, almost as apparent as his growing impatience. 

By this point, Sanji himself was beginning to fidget, leaning weight onto one side so that he could bounce his knee, fingers drumming against his thigh as fought the urge to grab a cigarette from his workout bag. The altercation had been dragging out for far too long, and there was something in the racers smirk that made Sanji want to kick it off the others face, something taunting, even though the taunting wasn't aimed at him. He bit his lip, suppressing a growl at the lengthening staring contest. Putting his hand on Yonji's shoulder in a rare moment of non-violent touching, he pushed the younger back, pulling himself forward as he did so. "Je vais m'en occuper, petit frère."

He felt, more than saw the sharp glare directed at him by his older siblings, who said nothing, though a feeling like mockery filled the air. Yonji leered menacingly, fixing the blonde with a sharp gray gaze. "I don't _need_ your help number 3." He sneered in English, brushing Sanji away. "You'd only lose anyways."

"No, no, that sounds real good." Zoro said, taking a step forward, music still playing from the one headphone. He was close enough that the chef could hear what was being sang. _Slut, you think I won't choke no whore, 'til the vocal cords don't work in her throat no more?_ "You got a nice pair of legs on you blondie, so let's go at it, seeing as your brother is being a, how you call it? A bébé chienne cul. _A baby bitch ass."_

Sanji tried and failed to hold in his snort, the sound dragged out of his throat by force. It was just immensely hilarious to see his brother flush in rage, even more so to see him flushed in rage because of his own words being used against him.

Even while he chuckled, he was still able to dodge the back handed slap that came his way. He leaned back, feeling his spine crack and continued down, bracing his palms on the rough, rock encrusted road, and kicked up, pushing Yonji's hand out of the way and watching as the green haired teen jerked to side from the force. Sanji brought his leg down, striking his brother in the back of his neck and dropping him on the asphalt, before landing in a crouch.

Gingerly, he dusted off his hands on the spandex pants he wore, and ignored Zoro's low whistle of approval. Yonji was struggling to get up, eyes popping out of his head and teeth bared, absolutely _seething._

"You're _dead,_ number three. You hear me?" Yonji snarled, hand balling into a fist as it dug into the ground, younger jumping up and taking a fighters stance. Sanji shifted his weight, putting more on his toes than his heels. He flexed his fingers, stretching them out, and bounced slightly, bang swaying with the motions.

The green haired teen rushed at him, letting out a gutteral yowl and the chef watched warily as he approached, taking a few steps back and kicking him directly in the stomach. Sanji flipped onto his hands, spinning and kicking Yonji's feet out from under him, cursing silently as he felt his foot graze an alley wall. The setting he was in was far from optimal, the blonde's fighting style requiring plenty of leg space-- something the dank alleyway didn't provide. 

Yonji was already back standing, though his gaze was cautious, and wasn't as quick to approach, instead bringing a closed fist up to protect his face, and another, slightly lower to protect his stomach. Out of the 5 siblings, Yonji was the roughest, the one who's skill was not as refine, or dignified. He was the slowest of the brothers, but what he lacked in speed was made up immensely with sheer force and strength. The punches were killer, and not something that Sanji wanted to be on the receiving side of.

As they circled each other, he watched warily from his peripheral as Ichiji stepped back, eyes covered but expressionless as always. Zoro was staring, obsidian gaze hungry, trailing the blonde's body with untethered awe, though not without a sliver of evaluation.

The racer grinned, a smile that was all teeth. "But what about me? I'm getting all lonely without anyone to play with." The words were spat with a pointed look at Ichiji, who blatantly ignored him. Niji charged forward, blue hair flowing and Zoro gave the teen a pleasant smile. 

The expression filled Sanji with eerie dread, and a twinge of fear, like how he imagined he'd feel seeing a tiger smile. 

That was all the time he had to think, before his brother came froward once more, leaving the chef with the vague need to impress the racer. 

How irritating. 

It was over faster than he expected. And surprising that no one had come by to see what all the commotion was about, considering the mix of Yonji's growls and Zoro's low timbre. But then, Sanji had been sure to knock his his baby brother out rather quickly, much to Ichiji's distaste. 

Not far from where he stood, Zoro crouched on one knee, hand around Niji's neck, squeezing with a murderous glee. Somewhere deep inside, the blonde supposed he should've felt an emotion like panic flood his body, but the only thing he could muster was disinterest and the strong fucking desire for a cigarette. The blue haired teen laid pliantly under the racer, refusing to give in, or show pain at the harsh ministrations and after a while Zoro let go, standing up and stepping back. His expression was disgruntled, something Sanji would call a pout if not for the sheer _absurdity_ of that word applying to someone as stoic as him.

"The unresponsive ones are no fun." The green haired teen huffed, before smirking at Sanji, head tilted in a way that exposed 3 gold piercing on his left ear, standing out against the darker skin tone. "Not so bad, huh blondie?"

He started to respond, but a flash of red cut him off, suddenly staring a his eldest brother, who had a foot planted into the wall by Zoro's head. The racer blinked lazily at him, and Ichiji stared, his rage silent but palpable, then brought his foot down, turning away snapping his fingers at Niji, who stood and grabbed their youngest brother, somehow still managing to retain an air of pride.

 _"Failure."_ Nijji whispered as he walked by, the moment passing in what felt like slow motion. Just as quick, the moment passed and Sanji let out a breath as his siblings disappeared around the corner. 

"Well." Zoro said, giving the blonde a neutral glance. "That was fucking boring."

Sanji could concur, still a bit high on adrenaline and now filled with the urge to expend it with another person. Instead he gave a non-committal hum and walked over to his discarded duffel bag, unzipping it and shuffling items around before grabbing hold of his smokes. _Marlboro_ , the good shit. He took the time to light it, savoring the spicy smell and as always, thought _to hell with deadened taste buds._ The blonde was still a _damn_ good chef. He let the smoke sit in his lungs, eyes closed as the toxin wreaked havoc on his oh-so important organs. He released it in an easy stream, cracking his blue orbs open to watch it disappear into sky, dissipating into nothing. 

Sanji was envious. 

"Smoking? Really?" That deep voice questioned, not quite breaching the thresh of manhood, but close enough to make the hairs on his neck stand at attention. 

It wasn't that Sanji expected the racer to have left, but in the same line of thought, he hadn't really considered the fact that Zoro would have stayed. He glanced over his shoulder, surprised to see only genuine curiosity in the others expression, and not the judgement that he'd seen from many others. He gave a shrug. "Helps calm the nerves, and I keep a tight leash on my intake."

Zoro barked out a short laugh, his rugged face lighting up in a way that made Sanji feel uncomfortable with how enamored he was to the sound. "What? Is that so unbelievable?" The blonde spat, having been mocked enough for one day, but the racer was already shaking his head in denial.

"Nah, its not that. I mean, its your body, do whatever the hell you want with it. It's just.." The teen trialed off, furrowing his brows in deep thought. "What you're doing is counterproductive, but as the same time it fits you." There was a twinkle in his amber eyes. "You're a bundle of contradictions. Can't say I hate that."

The words made him freeze, striking something within him that he couldn't name. He gave the racer an appraising once over, bringing the cigarette back to his lips in a languid drag. _You don't know me._ Is what he meant to say, but, _"_ How about we cash in on that race?" is what came out instead.

The look of pure excitement on Zoro's face was worth it. 

Sanji turned his back, bending down to grab his bag, and turned, walking past the racer before shooting a glance over his shoulder. "You coming or not?"

The sidewalks were mostly empty, not many people staying out now that the lunch rush was over. They walked in tandem, a good distance away from one another, but still close enough for Sanji to hear the music playing. _I'm a criminal! 'Cause every time I write a rhyme, these people think it's a crime to tell 'em what's on my mind. I guess I'm a criminal! But I don't gotta say a word, I just flip 'em the bird and keep goin', I don't take shit from no one._ The chef took a brief moment to wonder if he was in the company of a murderer.

 _Holy shit, maybe I am._ He thought, thinking about the ease that Zoro handled the situation with his siblings, as if everything but the prospect of fighting utterly bored him. As if he'd see _worse._ Experienced worse.

"Hey," The racer started, breaking their comfortable silence. "Before I forget, tell me. Who are you? Sanji or Stealth Black?" 

The question threw Sanji for a loop, and his steps stuttered, stopping his tracks as he gave Zoro an impressed once-over. It was the first time he'd been asked to differentiate between his true self and his persona. Many didn't care to know the difference, wanting the charming "Prince" which the blonde readily supplied, especially to a beautiful lady. He wondered if he could be himself around this guy. 

Something said he could. That tiny voice he locked away a long time ago, tired of listening to its pleading for a better life, pessimistic part of him already resigned to a detrimental future.

But maybe this time would different. Who fucking knew until he took that leap? And Sanji was always amazing at the pole vault. 

"Never did introduce ourselves proper, did we?" He stuck out his hand, feeling relieved when Zoro clasped it in a firm hold. "Sanji. Sanji Black."

The racer didn't comment on the change of last name and smiled, this one different from all the other he'd seen. "Roronoa Zoro, though Roronoa's my last name. I don't care much for the American order."

Sanji went to answer, but was interrupted by a loud ringtone, TLC blaring from the small device. _No. I don't want your number. No. I don't wanna give you mine, and no. I don't wanna go with you nowhere. No. Don't wan non of your time. No, I don't want no--_

"Hello?" The gravelly voice answered, laced with a sort of fond irritation that the blonde figured normal siblings would have with each other. "What'dya need witch?"

 _"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU??"_ A woman yelled from the other side of the line, voice frantic. It was loud enough to make Sanji flinch.

" _Shit."_ The racer said, seeming to realize some sort of mistake. " _Fuck._ I forgot about class. Listen, I'm gonna ditch, just for today alright?"

 _"IT'S NOT ABOUT YOU DITCHING, IDIOT! I WAS WORRIED!! FUCK, ALL MY STRESS IS BEING ADDED TO YOUR DEBT DUMBASS."_ The voice retorted angrily, causing the racer to scratch the back of his head, letting out a sigh that could only be described as defeat. 

"Hai, Hai." He drone, though his voice held true remorse. "Daijoubou." 

Sanji would be lying to himself, if he said he wasn't jealous. To see someone have family like that, clearly tight knit.

"Listen. I'm with Sanji right now. Yes, _Sanji._ I'll call you later." The racer paused, listening to whatever was being said. The chef felt his jaw drop as Zoro's face grew progressively red at the words of the girl he was talking to. The shade became impossibly bright, Zoro beginning to pace around. "You're _insufferable._ You know that right?"

He hung up the phone, shoving it in his pockets and storming.

Sanji didn't have the heart to tell him that he was going in the wrong direction. 

They arrived at the park thirty minutes later than planned but Sanji chose not to mention it, instead jogging up to the track, a wide grin splitting his face. It felt good to be back, his last time there having been his previous race with the teen. The track was completely void of people, normally empty during hours like this, which is why Sanji enjoyed coming so much. Perks of being home schooled.

Zoro jobbed up next to him, expression reflecting the same excitement that he felt. "You need to stretch?" The green haired male asked, giving him an inquisitive stare. The sun struck his eyes at an angle and Sanji saw that the racers lashes were a deep emerald. 

"Nope. You?" He replied a few seconds late, when he finally got his brain and tongue to work in tandem. His heart was racing, though they hadn't even started yet, and the chef realized that looking at the other most certainly was _not_ helping in the slightest. The teen was handsome, the exact kind of guy that Sani would fall for, on the occasions where he allowed himself to admit that bisexuality wad a thing and already his knees weak, dissipated into boneless jelly.

And that was a reaction that came from just _looking._

"I probably should, but I won't. Point is though," Zoro looked at him with a mischievous grin. ~~This mother fucking _smile_ was the reason that Saji could walk stright(no pun intended)~~ "You don't have any reason to stall Curly."

Just that fast, all thought of admiration came to a screeching halt. _Curly?_

By instinct, Sanji's hand trailed up above his eye, to the hair resting on top of it. He growled. 

"Oh, like _you're_ any better you fucking washed up algae."

Zoro stopped his low chuckling, glaring daggers. "What did you say?"

"You heard me. Ma~ri~ _mo."_ The chef teased, before taking off in a sprint and ignoring the incredulous cries of his opponent. 

Sanji won. ~~Fair and square too. The directionless moss would've gotten lost on the track anyways.~~

Zoro was standing next to him, bent in a squat, fingers brushing the dirt. His chest heaved, sweat sliding down in rivulets and Sanji was riveted by the sight. 

He blinked and shook his head, trying to clear the intrusive thoughts.

"Hey." Zoro began, looking up at the blonde with a penetrating gaze. "Why do you run track?"

"To run away." He answered promptly, mouth slamming shut as realized, to late what he said. Seeing no judgement in the racers eyes, he shrugged. "Just...to escape, you know? Sometimes, its okay to run. I can only fight for so long." Sanji ducked his head, hiding behind the bang as best he could, not want to meet those amber orbs. "I'll get tired. And thats when they'll get _me."_

They were silent for a while, sun beaming down on them, even her harsh rays seeming to judge. Sanji let out a dry laugh, ridiculing the absurdness of it all. "Sorry, that must be a lot. Coming from a stranger." 

"Let's not be strangers then." Came the simple response, and all the chef could do was stare.

"What?"

Zoro smiled, straightening himself and reaching a hand out. "Lets spar sometime Curly. And I'll show you to my family, don't worry, they're a real odd bunch."

"Knowing you. I don't doubt it." The blonde replied with caution, still not completely clear what was happening. 

"Mean." The other retorted, holding out his palm and shaking it insistently. "Your phone, give me."

They exchanged numbers and Zoro left shortly after, saying that he had to go. Sanji stared at the name icon for a long time.

_Marimo._

It was only after a few minutes that he realized he was smiling. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> special thanks to my good friend LOL  
> They helped me out a lot!
> 
> I'm begging for a comment. ;A; please. <3  
> ANYways. I hope you enjoyed. Im still playing around with how many chapters this is gonna be


	4. Handle With Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was something that death couldn't claim. Not yet, not while he could do something about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is playing around with a lot of characters that I haven't written before so please excuse this 😅
> 
> Also, a bit of research, though not everything may be 100% accurate.  
> I do hope you enjoyed!
> 
> not beta'd

He hated being here. 

He couldn't stand the smell, the scent that had plagued this place for years, the scent that mingled freely with PineSol, sprayed every hour on the hour like some sort of religious ritual. 

Underneath the eerie cleanliness and the sharp tang of metal, _that_ odor permeated the air, seeping into his clothing in a way that he just _knew--_ as he always did-- would linger within the folds of fabric. 

"Sanji, _chérie_? Est-ce vous?" Came a quiet, lilting voice. And with it rose both dread and immense comfort simultaneously. The room was dark, nothing revealed but a dim silhouette, outlined by the sliver of light shining through the bottom of the bedroom door, that doubled more as hospital room. 

" _Chérie?"_ She called again. _She._ One of the two women who meant the world to him.

"Oui, maman. It's me." He replied, forcing his voice to remain light, even as it faltered seeing that frail shadow. He crossed the tiled floor--carpet would make it too hard to move the medical equipment-- and stopped in front his mother, not offering to turn on the lights because he knew she'd refused, quite adamantly. 

_"I don't want you to see me like this."_

She didn't want him to see her. To see her and _know._ She didn't want him to see skin pulled taut around bones, face beginning to sink in, blue eyes darkened beyond its former glory. She didn't want him to see the way her once bright blonde hair had faded to a saddened gray, stringy and limp. 

She didn't want him to know. Didn't want him to _see._ But it didn't matter, not in the slightest.

Because Sanji could smell it. That traitorous odor. The one that held all of his dreams in one large palm, the other obscuring his mother, claiming her life as its to have. It was territorial, that scent, and seemed to grow stronger each time the chef visited.

Vinsmoke Sora, smelled like Death. 

Soft, familiar hands stroked his face, warm as they threaded through his hair, a near replica of her her own, though a shit ton shorter. The blonde felt himself lean into the touch as he crouched slightly by the bed, one hand sinking in the covers for purchase, the other resting comforting over his mother's thigh. He placed his head between her breast-- the way he always did as a child, whenever one of his days went _particularly_ bad-- and let himself be calmed by the steady heartbeat. This was something that death couldn't claim. Not yet, not while he could _do_ something about it.

Sora would be fine, perfectly fine, as long Sanji listened to the Judge, and did _exactly_ as he wanted. Which included the testing. 

"I watched a recording of your most recent race." She whispered softly, affection unable to disguise the wistful lilt. Remembrance of the days where she would watched him cook, scrambling around the kitchen and cooking her meal, until she became too weak to stomach it properly. "You did so _well,_ mon prince. So well."

Sanji felt a lump form in his throat and hurriedly swallowed it, before it could become a problem. The blonde nuzzled closer to his mom, enjoying the bit of heat that she emanated.

"Who's the boy? Il est migon." The woman asked slyly, giving a pointed glare in her sons direction and Sanji had never felt more grateful to the rooms darkness as he felt himself flush uncontrollably. 

_"Maman."_ The teen admonished, relishing the quiet giggles his mother let out, certain that she could feel just how hot the tips of his ears were. "He's not _cute._ He's a uncultured, ill mannered _brute_."

"Oh~" Sora sang, with a mischievous lilt that put Sanji on edge. "You're already friends with him then? You work _fast_."

The chef sputtered, floundering desperately for words. "I-it's not like that _maman,_ we just have an-- um, have an _understanding_. Yeah."

"Mm. _D'accord._ Whatever you say, love." She hummed. 

They lapsed into silence, it was calm, quiet. It felt like a cool wave, and he let it wash over him. "You know, you're free to pursue the life you want right? Nothing's holding you back."

He hugged her tighter, but didn't answer. 

Because they _both_ knew that wasn't true.

It wasn't true at all.

Sanji hated this room almost as much as he hated his mother's. 

It was sterile, cold, devoid of any emotion other than technological curiosity. 

He sat in the medical chair, drumming his fingers in unease and fighting the massive urge to pull at the restraints around his wrists and ankles. The Judge towered over him, a sinister grin on his face and Sanji beat down the glimmering sensation of pride at the expectant glance. He strangled, utterly _destroyed_ the part of him that keened at the thought of " _father is proud"._

Because this man was no father of his-- far from it. 

"This is going to be your nurse from here on out until further notice." The large man said and Sanji stared at the stranger, who pale skin and even lighter hair, signs of albinism-- it was someone he'd never seen before, so the chef fixed him with an ice blue glare. The man fidgeted under Sanji's gaze, giving a nervous smile that was so innocent it made the 19 year old sick. "He's new here, but knows quite a lot about... _unusual_ circumstances."

The man reached his hand out, giving a sheepish grin. "Hi there, my name is Bepo and I look forward to working with you."

Sanji only glared with a pointed expression, and at some point the nurse realized that shaking hands would be impossible in this situation, retracting the extended limb and sheepishly scratching the back of his head. 

Donning a more serious air of professionalism, the nurse--Bepo his name was-- turned the Judge, clipboard in hand and spoke, eyes flashing with something dark. "How shall I begin. You'd like me to research on the accumulation of-- "

The man stopped abruptly, and Sanji let a curse slip past his tongue as his father raised a hand, making a deliberate show of looking directly at him, a smug smirk crawling its way across disgusting features.

"Wait until the anesthetic has settled and the subject is unconscious before discussing anything with me. Is that understood?"

For his credit, the new man looked mildly confused, if not a bit concerned, but didn't voice any worries, instead nodding and letting out a strong, "Yes sir, understood." 

The chef gazed at the needle protruding from his arm with disdain, not even noticing when it'd be used on him, feeling the familiar wave of artificial drowsiness overcome him. He tried to slur one last insult as his head nodded, flopping forward without preamble. 

Darkness came for him, quickly at that-- they must've used a stronger mixture, maybe even a tranquilizer. His vision swam, the last thing he saw being a blurry visage of his brothers leering evilly from the other side of the large glass pane. 

" _Fuck....you._ "

Sanji hated that being in this room was the only place and time that he ever got decent sleep. 

* * *

-+-

* * *

Trafalgar Law was a calm, serious man. He coveted the quiet hours he managed to scrounge up for himself, sipping coffee and reading. Or researching, learning understanding, _expanding._ He was taciturn and rather stern, clipped words often bordering on harsh. He was prestigious, a prodigy, though rumors often sifted through the air. It was an interesting predicament, being as infamous as he was famous, and petty gossip didn't bother him in the slightest.

Mostly because they were true, but then, no one needed to know about that particular piece of information. In fact, he took immense pleasure in watching others flinch away from his inked hands, perhaps worried that the words tatted across his knuckles served as some sort of prophecy. Trafalgar Water Law for all intents and purposes, appeared to be a man who worked far too hard, far too long, with a support system of two friends and endless coffee. Law was strange--certainly scary and off-putting-- but a good man. 

He was also a sadistic asshole. A control freak with a manic smile whenever an _interesting_ patient arrived, dark circles highlighting a glowing golden gaze. Trafalgar Water Law was a wolf in sheep in wolf's clothing, who didn't even bother to wear his mask properly. 

_Surgeon of Death_ , they called him, despite his clearing and recovery of 100% of his patients. 

Though truthfully, if asked, he couldn’t say that he hated the moniker. 

In fact, the man liked it quite a bit. 

Maybe even _too_ much.

"Scalpel." He droned, lazily putting his hand out, latex glove glowing a powered blue under the fluorescent lights. Whatever the hell powered blue looked like. 

His assistant, Penguin, let out a low snort as he passed over the medical tool, brim of the hat shielding sparkling eyes from sight-- it was only because the younger was high-class by association that he got away with breaking protocol. "You sound too damn happy about needing that."

Law had to hold in a returning grin, though the mask would cover it regardless. " _Nurse_ ," He stressed the word, just to be an asshole. "this is a friendly reminder to remain professional while dealing with a patient."

"Oh _please._ He's out like a light. Don't try to deflect like you _aren't_ enjoying this operation right now." Penguin scoffed, cutting the sound short 

That was true, exceedingly so, but he neither deny or confirm that statement. He wiped the tool down with antiseptic and tossed the used wipe into the trash, grabbing a fresh one and dabbing at the area of soon-to-be incision. The mans neck was relaxed, plaint, and the tremor of excitement that ran through him, further cemented that Law would've been a rather joyful serial killer had he not taken up his obsession in a different manner. "I will nether deny nor confirm that statement." The surgeon drawled aloud, rolling his eyes as he elicited a snicker from his friend.

For a moment, they worked together in silence, diligent, but amicable with their craft. While conducting difficult surgeries was was a pleasure he had no guilt admitting he had, the 24 year old was slightly grateful for the minor reprieve, seeing as his patients as of late had been something of a... _handful._

Right on cue-- and in a way that tempted Law to split Penguins head open and study his brain-- the nurse spoke up again, curiosity piquing his tone. "Hey Cap'n, how'dya think ol' Bepo's doing in his new position?"

"I'm sure he's fine. Bepo's capable." He responded calmly, raising a hand for silence as he created a shunt on the side of his patients head, so that some of the blood flow would alleviate from where he was attempting to operate. Penguin fell quiet, respecting the request and waited for Law to make the cut on the the mans neck, a vertical line about 1 inch deep, enough to pry open and allow blood clots to clear out, decreasing chances of catching some nasty kind of cancer by a good amount. 60% to be exact. Despite being easy enough to perform and common in the average human being, Carotid endarterectomy surgery was still a pain in the ass. Though he couldn't deny that the sight of blood was intriguing all on its own and almost made the hassle worth it. 

"I hadn't meant to imply that he wasn't. I just mean," Peng continued, handing Law a fresh pair of gloves and discarding the used tools for new supplies. "It seems like something that _you'd_ be more interested in. All shady and shit. Thats right up your alley, and you got offered the job right?" 

With a practiced twist and a pull, the surgeon had fresh protection and sniffed lowly through his face mask, suddenly hyper aware of his coat and the way it brushed against his skin. Grabbing a pair of tweezers, he sifted through the tissue, opening the skin and artery, until he spotted what he was looking for. 

"Hm. Guess you're not as much of an airhead as I thought." Law replied, gripping the thin roll of plaque and pulling it out, observing with fascination as it stuck desperately to the artery walls. He put the sickly yellow pile of saliva and other particles on his medical tray, knowing that he was wearing a smile that would only serve to prove Penguin's point. "Normally, I'd jump on the opportunity to join in with a "shady and shit" company. But one, I made a promise, and I don't plan on breaking it. Two, Germa isn't my kind of place."

It was true. Judge Vinsmoke was far too similar to Doflamingo for comfort, he could only imagine what sort of troubles they'd cause if ever aligned. He shook his head, clearing his mind of the thought. Even if it did happen, Law would have no reason for it to affect him. Or anyone he cared for.

Law straightened, taking in the sight of the unconscious man with his neck exposed. He'd carefully destroyed and healed this human being. He was akin to this person's creator and demise. It sated the near insatiable desire to maim someone beyond recognition and it was thrilling. Like he murdered without killing. It was so very _interesting_ and it filled the surgeon with a sick, twisted sense of pride. Though he'd never told anyone but Luffy about it, seeing as the teen didn't understand the word judgement to save his damn life.

He tilted his neck, groaning softly at the loud crack, before talking off his gloves and heading to the washing area to clean his hands and change into more appropriate clothing. "Anyways. I didn't want the job badly enough, and Bepo knows how to take care of himself. Thats all there is to it." The raven head drawled. "His condition is stable. Go ahead and cover the sutures for me. " 

"Law, you _know_ thats against protocol. I can't." Peng protested, giving a hurried look around, as though someone would be listening. 

He decided to be honest for once, and fixed the man with the most earnest glance he could muster-- ~~which wasn't very much but he tried~~ \-- "I _trust_ you."

Worked just like a charm. 

"I-idiot. That won't work every time you know." Penguin sputtered, face turning red though his eyes flashed with gratitude and pride. 

Law snorted, hiding his laugh in a poor excuse for a cough. They both knew that wasn't true. "Of course not Nurse Penguin, but I should be taking my leave now. A certain ball of energy should be here any moment now."

He walked out of the surgical room, ignoring his friend's mutters. Making a beeline for the conference room, he fantasized about his once true love which made its home there and practically salivated at the thought of rich black coffee.

In the middle of his daydream, his nose was _rudely_ assaulted by the revolting, disturbingly familiar scent of impending Lung Cancer and jail time. Walking right past the man, he sauntered into the room, a real smile making its way to his face at the sight of her. Betty. She was a little old thing, but boy did Law love her when she got wet. No one made better coffee than Betty, except maybe Barbara but then that was between him and his apartment and no one else needed to know of that.

"I'm afraid he hasn't made his way here yet officer." The surgeon drawled, once he'd taken a sip of the glorious concoction. "Looks like you came too early. What is it, crime so low that you've resorted to chasing high school kids around?"

"Trafalgar." The burly man rumbled, large cigar sitting unlit between thin lips, ignoring the others provocation. Smoker--aptly named of course, his parents must have had astounding clairvoyance-- waved a stack of papers hidden within a vanilla folder. "We have a few matters to discuss, which I'm more than certain will entertain you _and_ your sick mind."

He snatched the folder out of Smoker's hand, smirking at the officers failed attempt to draw it back in time. Sifting through the pages, he saw something that caught his interests. 

_Internal_ _Bleeding_

_Possible cause of Death: Combustion of the Heart_

The picture that followed was rather gruesome and it only served to make him wonder why he hadn't been aware of these cases from before hand. Heart Hospital was one of two in the immediate area.

He handed the papers back, giving a slow eyebrow raise.

"Okay then officer." He stated, waving a languid hand at the available seats. "You've got me _and_ my sick mind's attention."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know nothing of surgery, though I did want to be a surgeon at one point. xD  
> Sorry this chapter is short. A lot of these characters are out of my comfort zone. 
> 
> But please, leave a comment. Let me know what you think.


	5. Surgeon of Death and The Straw Hat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smoker sucked his teeth in distaste, giving a disgruntled mutter. His stark gray hair seemed more prominent by the day and Law used the silence to satisfy him with the thought that he could see a new gray hair sprout at his words. "You're insane Trafalgar."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer. The information I'm using is accurate, but exaggerated and staggered to fit the roles I need it to for this fic to make sense.

"Mind telling me what we're looking at?"

Law forced his shoulders to relax as the man loomed over him in a way that would be menacing, if he were capable of feeling anything akin to fear.The scent of smoke was overwhelming and the surgeon stared in mild revulsion as he watched ashes drop dangerously close to his coffee. The coffee dear Betty so graciously provided. He pulled the cup closer, careful to not to make it spill all over the spread of files, and especially not over this _particularly_ interesting photo of innards.

"Move your death stick somewhere else officer or I'll dismember you and turn your body parts into a scavenger hunt for the children at the orphanage." He shot the man a small smirk through narrowed eyes. "Show them the consequences of smoking. Seems a fitting demise for a smoker named Smoker, wouldn't you agree?"

The man huffed. "You gonna start spewing your lung caner lecture bullshit now or something, _doctor?"_ Smoker asked, taking a long, purposeful drag of the dangerous substance. Even being in such a close proximity was making alarm bells ring in his head, screaming that-- _yes, they very much would like to be able to breath in twenty years time thank you--_ but he shut them down, just for the moment. 

"Of course not, considering a blockhead like you wouldn't listen. And besides," He gave the other a slow, appraising gaze, eyes sparking with unveiled curiosity. "I'd love to have a big guy you on my operation table. I'll tear you apart bit by bit, and painstakingly put you back together again."

Smoker sucked his teeth in distaste, giving a disgruntled mutter. His stark gray hair seemed more prominent by the day and Law used the silence to satisfy him with the thought that he could see a new gray hair sprout at his words. "You're insane Trafalgar."

That made the surgeon laugh silently into his coffee, once again bringing the photo up to his eyes, studying it carefully. "Its not about what you are are White Hunter. Its about what you do."

And regardless, the raven head wasn't one to question his mental stability. He already knew.

Trafalgar Law was the farthest thing from sane. 

He leaned back in his chair, grateful that it was one of the plush ones with a spring. His legs stretched comfortably, and he set the paper in his hand down, careful not to mix up the different documents. Setting aside the hot drink and picking up another file, he motioned for the officer to kill his cigar, deeming their short break over. 

"Blood cells." The surgeon started when Smoker gave him his full attention, gray gaze steely and intimidating. "Red blood cells specifically. Do you know their purpose?"

Large shoulders gave a half-hearted shrug, followed by a low grunt brimming with thinly veiled disinterest. Well poor fucking _smokey_ , the uncouth officer was getting a fucking biology crash course today.

"Red blood cells main priority is to transport oxygen from the lungs to the rest of the body. That can be recognized as our inhale. The cells then return to our lungs, carrying carbon dioxide. Thats akin to our inhale. You following?"

A reluctant nod. 

"Good. Now look here." He pointed at the photo in his hand, sitting on the table between them-- an image of an artery, though more specifically, the crescent shaped cell. "See this? Its known as sickle cell, and its genetic, inherited. Not exceedingly common, but not unheard of. These are for a case right?" He asked, not waiting for an answer. "Out of the three images you've given me, this one is the least problematic, practically boring. Its not anything your forensic team or a regular autopsy couldn't have discovered on their own. Why show me?" 

Smoker scratched his head, looking more disgruntled by the second. "They're homicide cases, unsolved, occurred within the last year. Except for the one in your hands. Its occurred maybe two years ago, possibly three. I've been thinking of reopening some cases and you have a good eye." The officer shrugged, mouth working around an invisible cigar. "But can you spare me the college lesson? I dropped out for a reason."

Law felt his eye twitch. As if he _wanted_ to explain simple bodily functions to a grown ass man. Fine. He grabbed the interesting picture from before and jabbed at finger at it, leaving a light imprint.

"Here, broken cells, ruptures within the heart, quite an insane injury really but not impossible. Terribly precise with a high, though not confirmed chance that it'd been some purposeful act-- don't ask how, I couldn't tell you. Satisfied?"

He waited, interally relishing the way the silence between them spread, awkward tension rising high as he waited patiently for the question he knew was bound to arrive. 

"What...does that mean?" Smoker asked, almost sheepish, if a man of his stature was capable of such a thing. 

Law smirked, leaning forward and feeling his elbow touch the side of his mug, warmth radiating into that portion of the limb, his chair creaked and he cocked his head, wondering what was the best, yet most concise way to explain it all.

"Its a large catalyst for internal bleeding, though like I said, exceedingly rare. Blood from the heart leaks into the pericardium-- which is something like a protector of your heart, on the left side, like a shield. Well, blood leaks into there and fills the gap, a perilous predicament if you ask me, and this one appeared to be particularly messy. In essence, the heart explodes."

Smoker cursed under his breath, eyes wide in awe and disgust and the surgeon felt mild pride in being able to shock such a seasoned policeman, who'd seen _more_ than his fair share of fucked shit. 

The surgeon raised an inquisitive brow, going to drink the rest of his coffee, only to find that it was already finished. He sighed, pushing his chair out and standing up. "I don't really get how you didn't at least _suspect_ my answer. It is the title of that file, you do realize that right." He asked as he walked towards Betty, filling his cup once more and inhaling the rich scent.

"I'm not a goddamn dictionary." The officer exclaimed, looking progressively more agitated than normal, finger running though his hair and eyes narrowed in contemplation. 

"Relax." Law started, not fancying the thought of his lounge being being trashed in an act of frustration. "Its rare but it happens. Not much of a big deal and besides, each of those cases are too different to try and compare or connect them. I suggest you drop it for now. Wait until you have more concrete evidence or something."

"The cases wouldn't have gone cold if there had been concrete evidence."

"Of course, and the entire point of reopening a case is to _find_ concrete evidence." The surgeon retorted hotly. 

Smoker opened his mouth-- likely to object, but was interrupted by a boisterous yell. 

"TORAOOOOOOOOOOOOO ITS LUNCH TIME!!!"

He gave a faint grin. "And that would be my dear highschool acquaintance, fresh from skipping classes. I'm sure you won't mind taking your leave now."

"TORAO!!!!" Came the voice again, closer this time, loud and joyous-- one of the few things that could make a genuine grin rise to his face. He cradled his cup, ignoring the officers low grumbles behind him and called out to the 17 year old.

"In here Mugiwara-ya. The usual spot." 

No sooner than that did the teenager burst into the room, a whirlwind of shaggy black hair, flopping straw hat, and iconic red jacket billowing behind him. Law set his mug down just as the other sprang into the air, tackling the surgeon in a suffocating hug, laughing all the while. 

His sandaled feet dug into Law's ribs with a strength that was uncanny, feet that were able to stop a man nearly twice both their sizes like it was nothing. It was ridiculous, in a way that made the man's body tingle in long awaited anticipation. Law spoke a lot about flaying people into a million pieces but _Luffy_ , Luffy was something entirely different. Luffy was a specimen that he wanted to dissect and study. To learn. 

He wanted to pick apart the teen's heart and brain. To steal the secret of his careless and carefree style of life. He found it amusingly ironic that the most open person he'd ever come in contact with was such an enigma. 

"Get off me Mugiwara-ya. Remember our personal space conversation." The dark man reprimanded lightly, finding it harder and harder each day to keep his voice stern. It wasn't like Luffy would listen to him anyways. As predicted, the teen only tightened his hold, before letting go and jumping down, wearing an impossibly large grin. 

"Heya, Traffy! Its your lunch break so I ran all the way here! What're we eating?"

This was something else the 17 year old was doing for him. 

"I don't have any food." Law drawled, eliciting a protesting whine from the other, who deflated almost instantly. "So unless you want to go to a store or order take out I don't know what to tell you."

While the surgeon spoke, Luffy seemed to finally take notice of the other person in the room and perked up instantly, bounding over to the officer before he finished speaking and giving a large grin. "Oi! Smokey, I didn't see you there! How come you're with Torao?" 

Law smirked, listening to the thread of steel in the younger tone, protective and confident all at the same time. He walked over, placing a placating hand on his friend's shoulder, giving silent reassurance. 

it wasn't anything like _that._

He had promised after all. 

"I was just leaving, Stawhat." Smoker grunted, collecting his papers and stand abruptly, brushing past the 17 year old and giving the man a curt nod. "I'll be on contact Trafalgar."

Law watched him go with an interesting sensation niggling in the back of his mind. But he ignored it, instead facing Luffy. "Let's steal Shachi's lunch."

He couldn't deny loving the way those eyes lit up. 

"So, when are you going to finally ask him out?" Shachi asked, having just come down from his colorful tantrum at the surgeon eating his lunch. His red hair stood out in the white room, like some sort of physical manifestation of his rage or something. 

It was entertaining to witness. 

Law scoffed, leaning back on his chair, legs open and taking as much space as possible. "When grooming and pedophile aren't words that'll describe me for doing so."

"As if. The kids gonna be be 18 in a few months anyway."

"Shachi, the day I decide to listen to you about this is the day I turn _myself_ in to the police station. I'm sure Smoker would be happy to have me. Old man is _looking_ for an excuse to turn me in." He grunted, letting his head loll to the side, distantly wondering if he should get another cup of coffee. His fingers drummed lazily on the back of the chars next to him and appraised the small room with little interest. 

"Uh huh. But that'll be _after_ you two go on a date right?" His friend asked, no better than his damn other half. 

"Haha. Get the fuck out my room before I make you my next patient." 

Shachi sighed, shaking his head in mock disapproval. He was sitting across from Law, head on the table and cushioned by his arms. "I'm just saying, he saved your life. And you saved his in return. No ordinary couple has an origin story quite like that, let alone one so _literal._ You guys are connected by more than simple attraction is all I mean. I don't want you to let that go to waste."

"Look, in the end. Its going to be his choice. I refuse any other method, being the age that I am. He's young and deserves to explore if thats what he wants, I won't influence that decision. Hell, _I'm_ young and deserve to explore, I just could care less about it." The surgeon expressed, not really wanting to talk about it. 

Romance wasn't his thing. Let alone romance with someone who wasn't of age and like bloody _fuck_ was he going to take himself down that road. 

Luffy was a friend. Luffy was going to _stay_ that way until he said he wanted something more. If he wanted something more.

And Law was perfectly alright with that.

Sanji woke to a dark room and the sterile scent of steel. The memories of the night before flood into his mind and gave his fist an experimental life, pleased to see that it was no longer strapped. It meant that he was free to go. 

He laid still for a moment, allowing feeling to flood back into his limbs, moving a bit here and there. He hated that it was after these sessions that he felt the most refreshed, spry and ready to take on the goddamn world with nothing but his fucking feet. His legs felt stronger, like he could _fly,_ walk through the sky if thats what he desired. 

The chef wondered just how long he'd managed to sleep this time. The average was two to three days, though never more than that. His last nurse had called it a temporary coma,said his body had been under such severe stress that it passed out. Sanji had never seen that nurse again after she told him that line of reasoning. 

She disappeared, and with her leave arrived a not so friendly reminder from the Judge that Sora's life was on the line. It was the one and only time that Sanji had dared to show his blatant anger and disgust. Shaking off the dark thoughts, he reached for his phone, hissing as the brightness shocked his eyes, artificial light coming off too strong. Lowering the screen, he let out a sigh of relief. It was only early after noon, which wasn't bad, considering other times. 

Glancing at the date, he put his phone on his lap and counted the days he'd been unconscious. 

It was seven. A week. The longest he'd had since starting this bullshit. 

He supposed he was grateful for homeschooling. As long as it kept his family from his mother, it was fine. 

Sanji could handle it. 

_Whatever_ the hell they were doing to him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I cut this chapter short? Yes. Is this story likely going to end up longer than I planned? Yes.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! I apologize, I know this was a lawlu centric chapter.


	6. The Way to A Man's Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...is to knock him on his ass so it's easier to reach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playing around a lot with perspectives this chapter. I'll try to keep it clear for you all. I hope you enjoy!  
> It going to be a lot of flipping, because several things are all happening at the same time. 
> 
> And a lot this chapter is based on different songs, which I'll place in the end notes. I hope you'll enjoy.

"Come on, hands up. For all your talk about maintaining a pretty face, you sure aren't doing a good job of protecting it." 

Nami gritted her teeth, hair falling down in small strands, sweat plastering it to her face. The fabric of her fingerless gloves stuck to her palms, pulling off her skin with a quiet pop as she shifted, feet squeaking against the blue mats. Adjusting her position, she crouched a bit lower, placing a bounce in her stance, raising a hand to her face, arm extended slightly. 

Their gym room was rented out for the next few hours, all theirs until they left, and almost never left early, typically staying until it was cutting it close.

"Good." Zoro growled, eye trialing down her body, an instructor's gaze. He stood across from her, arms crossed and muscles bulging, nothing short of a taunting drill sergeant as he oversaw their warm up session. "Now again."

She twisted her hip, pushing forward in a wide hook before snapping her arm back, extending the left one in a straight punch. 

" _Hands._ " Zoro snapped and she let out a low noise of frustration, pulling her left hand up and executing a harsh uppercut with her right. The tight latex shorts she wore stretched as she moved, shifting around her still developing muscles. Her calves burned pleasantly and she jumped from foot to foot, easing her stance as she cracked her neck, wiping hair from her eyes. 

"Giving up already?" The teen mocked and Nami scoffed, rolling her eyes. She sat down and opened her legs, leaning to the side. Something in her hip popped and she practically purred. "I expected better from you."

"Oh yeah? The same way I expected you to have that pretty blonde wrapped around your finger by now right?" The woman retorted, shooting her sparring partner a mischievous smirk, knowing that it was a low blow. Zoro's eyebrow twitching was proof enough, let alone his barely concealed pout. 

"Get up so I can drop you on your ass." He said, sounding petulant as fuck and only serving to make Nami laughed, clutching her stomach as she doubled over. 

The swordsman rolled his eyes, taking the time she was distracted to send a text, one of several, which hadn't been answered.

 **[Marimo] 2:30 p.m:** _Blink once if you're alive shitty Curlybrow. Even if its to tell me to fuck off. You were the last person seen with me and I rather not be the one blamed for your untimely death. Answer the damn phone._

Zoro was not desperate or worried. Of course not. He wasn't silently agonizing over the pretty blonde, who beat his brother into the ground like it was nothing. He most definitely wasn't interesting in the idiot. Never.

He'd never been much of a good liar.

_And as far as I can see, I just need privacy  
Plus a whole lot of tree, fuck all this modesty_

Despite being one of the most famous heirs of the Vinsmoke family reign, Sanji still wasn't used to avid recognition. It wasn't like he walked around flaunting his status anyways but it was unnerving. He wasn't much compared to his siblings, who where big on following the family's medical empire. Niji was always going on about the theories behind human evolution and enhancement. The eradication of all diseases.

He'd admit that it was pretty fucking fascinating, plus anything that could possibly explain what was wrong with his mother helped. He slid on his shoes, wondering if he roll up a joint. Maybe he'd call Usopp later, the guy always seemed to have some, his connections were insane. Sanji learned a long time ago to not ask questions. That kind of night life wasn't for him.

Oddly enough, it was the one request that his father had respected. Though the blonde wasn't surprised, after all it wasn't likely the Judge would want a failure to take over whatever shady underground work he had going on.

_I just need space to do me  
Give the world what they're tryna see_

"Have a nice day Master Vinsmoke." Bepo said kindly, the albino offering a tentative smile behind glasses that made his opaque eyes seem larger. "I'm certain you'll be notified of your next appointment." 

Next. As if this shit was normal. Sanji felt that he should be at least curious as to what his family was doing to him, but frankly he couldn't care less. it was the one thing they asked from him, aside from public prestige, and it was something he willingly provided, with incentive however. 

Vinsmoke Sora. They were killing her. Slowly but surely, and the teen really didn't know how much was left.

Time.

"Right, you too." He heard himself respond blankly, walking from the lab to the door, leading up to higher levels of the mansion. He decided to go to the gym. It was always an exhilarating experience to workout after these.... _sessions._

_I just need to be alone, I just need to be at home  
Understand what I'm speaking on if time is money I need a loan_

It was a lot of things that caused the start her decline.

The Judge attempting to genetically modify his children while till in the womb as one. _Cybernetics_ he said. _Liquid metal, immense strength._

He gave it to Sora without her knowing, some toxic mix of chemicals, shielded brilliantly by well-cooked food. Bit by bit, ounce by ounce. Small doses. 

_Get the children used to it. It'll settle in their bones. It'll be a part of them. My perfect creations._

Bless his mother's kindhearted soul. And curse her fucking rebelliousness. She found out, because women always found out, let alone mothers, and panicked. She cried, kicked, and punched, and then she took a poison to cancel this effects, because Sanji and Yonji head yet to be born.

That was the story his old nurse told him. She was a kind woman, pretty and soft spoken. He was almost certain that she was dead.

 _You aren't machines._ Thats what the lady said his mother whispered as she stared at their newly born bodies.

And she wasn't some super hero, falling irreversibly ill, Sanji coming out not like his siblings, no where near their strength and speed. 

Maybe that was a good thing,. It meant his mother's sickness wasn't in vain, but it also made him an outcast, a failure. 

Sanji walked out the front door, stepping into the light, blinking harshly at it bright rays. 

Even running at full speed, he couldn't get rid of the shadows.

_Yeah, lonely nights I laid awake  
Pray to Lord, my soul to take  
My heart's become too cold to break_

"Has he left the premise?" The Judge's voice was deep, dark and it reverberated through Yonji's bones shaking the teen to is core. He learned long ago to not flinch, and that so much as a blink was a show of weakness. 

He gulped though, and the sound echoed through the room, slicing tensions as easy as a knife. 

"Yes sir." He responded, keeping his expression blank and words coming out in a monotonous drone. 

The Judge had his back turned to them, sitting in front of his large desk, papers strewn about in organized chaos. "He is friends with Roronoa Zoro. Why was I not made aware of this sooner?" 

Yonji knew better than to ask how his father knew that bit of information. Nothing ever got past the man, though he wasn't sure how to answer that question without revealing that he'd gotten side-tracked and therefore garnering the large blonde's wrath. 

Ichiji stepped in before he could respond, and the 19 year old stopped himself from sending over a grateful glance. 

"We did not perceive him as a threat, considering the man did not recognition to us or our names, rather he seemed more interested in Number Three and as such I surmised that there would be nothing to gain from eliminating him. Was i incorrect in this assessment?" The cords came out robotically, without a shred of emotion, as if the red head had never been born with any.

The room was quiet, the silence dragging on before the Judge chuckled, mane of hair bouncing rigorously. "Your assessment was fine. Regardless, I won't do anything to hurt the Demon and risk breaking the Accords. As long as he keeps his distance from our company I have no qualms about him wasting away with the failure. I'll have some assigned to watching him. You're dismissed." 

They turned as one, filing out one by one in a rigid line. 

Yonji pretended not to hear as his father said something to himself. 

"Its time to see exactly how this alliance could benefit. A worthy trial run." 

_I tell her, "Now go and pop that pussy for a real nigga."_   
_I already know that life is deep but I still dig her_

The music came out from Zoro's speakers, ringing loudly in the large room. The swordsman didn't too much care for that word, but then it was his to like or dislike. Hip Hop and rap was the only genre of music that both he and the witch could agree on, Lil Wayne being one of the few artists they both listened to. America wasn't all it caked up to be, though he could admit that their music was pretty astounding, and exceedingly diverse.

It was fascinating, their culture, if America could even claim to have one. Their history was littered with forced cross culture. This land was the land of the free, the golden country that earned its name on the blood of countless slaves and injustice. 

Maybe obscene controversy was just another facet of American charisma. Zoro was never one for politics anyways, and it wasn't as if this place was the only one in the world that face corruption, though this was the kind of topics he enjoyed discussing with Robin, who happened to be a professor at Grand Line University. 

_Devil on my shoulder, the Lord as my witness  
So on my Libra scale, I'm weighing sins and forgiveness_

Zoro watched as Nami circled around him quietly, her eyes taking in his body, his positioning, his stance and suppressed the urge to nod in approval. She was still loose, taking on a more relaxed stand point, bouncing loosely on the balls of her feet, seemingly something that she preferred. Zoro silently agreed, as the woman was more of a weapons combatant, and would move more fluid with a fighting style that wasn't as stiff. She smirked, bobbing her head to the words, body begging to move in synch with the music. 

_What goes around, comes around like a hula hoop  
Karma is a bitch? Well just make sure that bitch is beautiful_

Nami sang the words out loud, stepping in and closing the distance between them almost faster than he could react. Zoro dodged the punch to his face, side stepping nad grabbing her wrist in retaliation. He went to flip her over his shoulder, unable to hold back a smile as she let herself go with the upward motion, wrapping her legs around his neck and using their momentum to drag him to the ground in a suffocating hold. 

Smart as the maneuver was, her leg strength was hardly enough and he pried them open, flipping her onto her stomach and twisting her arm behind her back, twisting so that it'd twinge uncomfortably. And maybe he should stop underestimating her lithe feet because once more they were wrapped his neck, hooked off one another as she pushed down, slamming his face into the mat and writhing out of his hold. 

_Life on the edge, I'm dangling my feet  
I tried to pay attention but attention paid me_

Before he could move she scrambled up, landing a square kick to his ribs. It didn't hurt, but was enough to jar his bones. He feigned disorientation, waiting until the woman got cocky, going in for a second attack, and grabbed her ankle, dragging her back down.

She landed hard, wincing as her arm hit the mat and he let go immediately, cursing under his breath. 

"Let's stop for now and wash up a bit. No point in looking all badass like this, if our tattoos just get infected." Zoro stood, holding out a hand to help the 18 year old sit up, watching as she moved her shoulder experimentally. 

"It's all good." She reported, giving him a reassuring smile, before sighing dramatically. "But thank all that is currency, I can finally take this damn binder _off._ Its been uncomfortable as hell." The red head lifted her shirt, taking it off completely.

"Not my fault you chose to tattoo " _ask for consent_ _, dumbass"_ under your breasts, you fucking idiot." Zoro huffed in response, looking around for their dufflebags, knowing that the medicinal ointments would be there.

She snorted, unclasping the strap and relishing in the sound of velcro ripping, chest springing free. "Fuuuuccckk that feels so good." Nami moaned, tossing her head back as she caressed her breasts, massaging the tender flesh. One of these days she'd look up how to wear the damn thing properly. It didn't do to have her boobs flying all over the fucking place while she trained. 

Sanji walked into the gym room, the one that he normally used whenever he stopped by, head phones plugged and head bobbing. He had expected to walking on a gorgeous, shirtless-- _braless--_ red head that was talking amicably with a familiar looking moss.

Clearly they hadn't expected him either, if her comically surprised face was anything to go by. She seemed to go through many emotions, before settling on something akin to mischief and knowing.

The woman turned towards him, bosom challenging his eyes to stay up as they swayed from side to side. His nose felt like it was about ro combust, but bleeding all over the place certainly wasn't the way to make a good first impression. 

Zoro rolled his eyes, turning back to the large back duffel bag he carried, muttering something about being shameless and _perverts like curlybrow over there._ The woman seemed to hear it too, because she stuck her tongue out before looking back at him, standing an dusting off her short. ~~which were extremely short~~ ~~ _what the fuck._~~

"Hi. My name is Nami. Nami Bellemere." She held her hand out, giving a bright smile. "Its a pleasure to finally meet you Sanji." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder if they set off metal detectors? xD  
> lets pretend they dont
> 
> Can the author write fight scenes? No. But is she going to write more of them anyways? Yes uwu
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! Please let me know your thoughts!
> 
> The songs I used were "Me, Myself, and I" by G-Eazy as well as "She Will" by Lil Wayne
> 
> Also, I just really like being confident but no nonsense when it comes to her body


	7. Gatekeeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Another?" The teen asked, and edge in his voice. "They're still asking for interviews?" 
> 
> "What can I say? I got pretty infamous. People want to know." She said, trying to sound more unaffected than she felt. "They all want the scoop. The truth behind Nami Bellemere, former musician extraordinaire." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I giving Nami a backstory that has almost nothing to do with the current plot? Yes. UwU  
> (It will give some insight to how fucking SAVAGE Luffy is though)  
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Tw: Mentions of Rape, Abuse, Pedophilia and Forced Prostitution
> 
> There's going to be a lot of transitions from present to past, please let me know if its too much!

Donquixote Rosinante was a normally joyful man, boisterous, if not mildly careless. Never careless about the ones he loved however, which was why he was currently sitting in his adopted son's office, watching him sip leisurely at a cup of coffee, still scalding. 

"Was that all Cora?" Law drawled coldly, a tiny upwards slant reflecting his true amusement, golden eyes flashing with mirth. "My lunch break will be over soon, after all."

Yes, the lunch break. The lunch break that Cora had made sure to be early to, only to walk in on _that_ child hanging off his son like a kid on a particularly grumpy playground. Except this grumpy playground wore a fond smile, one that stuck permanently, long after the high schooler departed. Cora wasn't jealous, not at all, not even an inkling. He crossed his arms defiantly, turning his nose up at the younger, wearing a disgruntled expression. 

"What's with the face?" Law questioned, small smirk the equivalent of a shit eating grin. "Jealous? Of a 17 year old? _Really_?"

"I am _not_ jealous!" He squawked, raising an offended hand to his chest in only half mocking anger. "He could never become your dad after all." An idea struck the man and he fixed his son with a wary glance. "Wait...he _isn't_ your dad right?"

The surgeon's features instantly twisting into revulsion as he understood the implications brought Cora more relief than he'd be willing to admit. Though he did let out a thankful sigh, already wary of the boy, age aside. 

“Good.” The ex-officer said simply. “Then there’s nothing for me to be jealous of.” He paused, not liking the dirty feel to the words. “Wait no, not that I _want_ to be your dad, well I _do_ , but not like that. I just mean--” He stopped, taking a deep breath. “You know what? Lets end this part of the conversion.” 

“Agreed.” Law quickly complied, discomfort clear on his face. "Still though, you want to talk about Luffy right? Tell me to stay away from him?"

Ah, his son, so focused and able to cut right to the heart of any matter. Cora mentally patted himself on the back for the surgical analogy. "Its not that I want you to stay away Law. I just want you to be careful. That boy, he's--"

"I'm very aware of who he is." The man cut in, voice curt, leaving no room for discussion. Law looked off into the side, a light pastel fluttering over his features and Cora kept in the urge to sigh. 

It wasn't like Law had the easiest childhood, and with his teenage years spent under the thumb of _that_ man. Cora could only imagine all the repressed adolescent hormones in adult body. The 24 year old was expressing his first high school crush, and as cute as that was, those affections couldn't have been aimed at a more problematic recipient. 

He'd meant what he said, about not being jealous. But most certainly he was worried. Those of the D initial were dangerous being to be around. Rosinante considered Trafalgar to be a bit of an exception. 

But that boy? That boy had been a force to be reckoned with, even at the age of 15, and Cora shuddered, loathe to think about what he was capable of. "Monkey D Luffy is not your average human being, Law."

And his son only snorted, expression bordering on bored. "I'd be surprised if he were human at all." 

"Even though you're agreeing with me, somehow I feel like you're still missing the point. Or rather, blatantly disregarding it."

Law’s smile turned a tad warmer, regarding Cora with a rare-- but familiar fondness that turned his eyes to molten gold and Cora’s heart into a puddle. “Perhaps I _am_ purposely misconstruing the point you’re trying to make, but I want you to trust me. Okay dad?” The surgeon looked off into the distance, staring at something over his shoulder. “I know he’s young, hell, he’s _too_ young, but still, I trust him. He saved my life. He brought me back to you.”

The ex-officer huffed, slumping his already large frame, bony legs bent awkwardly, toes touching the edge of the steel desk. He looked at Law suspiciously. “You used the D word on purpose, didn’t you?” He questioned. “You know how soft it makes me.”

“I’m just glad it doesn’t get you hard.” Law quipped, sipping at his coffee, letting out a low noise of appreciation.

Cora stared in mild confusion as the gears in his mind turned, sitting up abruptly and throwing his arms out as he understood what his adopted son meant. “No. Nononononono, we are _not_ going back down that line of conversation. Absolutely not.” 

Law laughed, shoulders shaking in silent bemusement. 

The older man smiled, glad to see the other so happy. As much as he hated to admit it, Luffy was a good kid, and he knew it. And definitely not without some balls.

_“I don’t like police officers.”_

_The boy was covered in blood, chest heaving and eyes dark, no sign of an iris present, soulless and empty. The cities were abandoned, bodies everywhere, the stench of death prominent, and this boy was no exception. He looked dead on his feet, but something about him put the officer on edge. “Who’re you?” Cora asked, though those weren’t he wanted to ask. It was moments like this the man questioned his choice in joining an organization like this, that laid all lives at equal level, as wrong as that would be._

_Because no one would ever grace the importance of Law. Of his son. “Get out of here kid, find help.”_

_Do something, get away, because Cora was ready to leave. Cora would abandon this child covered in blood and likely asking for help. He’d leave, because his son was in trouble._

_“I don’t like police officers.” The boy said again, stepping closer, straw sandals slapping against the concrete road with a sickening sound as it landed in blood. Then those eyes were on him, those soulless, shining with a burning hatred. “But you’re Torao’s dad.”_

_“Who?” Cora questioned, eyes widening, and body lurching back too late as a fist connected with his cheek. The officer rocked back under the force, stumbling before falling flat on his ass, gravel crunching under his feet._

_“TORAO!” The teen yelled, red vest vibrant and black hair matted. “YOU LEFT HIM BEHIND. HE THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD! You left Law.”_

_A fist connected with his face again, metallic flavor pugnet, and eyes stinging with tears. His body was frozen, stuck under the ferocity of that obsidian glare. So much fury._

_The teen straddled his hips, grabbing on to his collar, spittal flying from his lips and landing on Cora as he screamed into the empty sky. “YOU’RE HIM AREN’T YOU? AREN’T YOU?”_

_The officer’s eye was swollen, almost shut, blood flowing from a cut on his head. “H-how did you know?” He croaked, tongue thick and slow in his mouth, words feeling slurred._

_The boy sat up, letting him drop back down. “You kept saying his name. And I know what it's like, to look for someone you think is dead.”_

_And Cora broke down into tears, shocked to see the boy’s anger fade into a large smile, wide, warm, and inviting. As though it were some sign, the clouds parted, and through it, rays of the sun highlighted the ground. The teen stood up, holding out an offering hand, an olive branch. “Come on. Let’s go see him. It's been a long time right?”_

_That was Donquixote Rosinante’s first encounter with the young menace known as Monkey D. Luffy._

“I trust you Law. And I trust the brat too. He _did_ promise, and has been keeping his word.” Cora said, standing up and dusting off his clothing. “I just worry. The Accords are a fragile thing.”

“I know you do.” The surgeon replied. “And I know they are. I do appreciate your concern though.” He spun to the side in his chair, standing and fixing the older male with a rare wide smile-- the one he’d adopted after meeting that boy. “Come on old man, I’ll walk you out.”

The ex-officer grinned. His son was in good hands. Until he realized. “Oi! I’m not old!”

"Hi. My name is Nami. Nami Bellemere." She held her hand out, giving a bright smile. "Its a pleasure to finally meet you Sanji." 

Said boy looked like he was about to burst, and Nami held in a snicker, watching as he forcefully restrained himself from looking at her chest-- which was an admirable endeavor. Tentatively, he reached out, grasping her hand and giving it one solid, firm shake before retracting quickly, pupils blown wide. His face was inflamed, a bright red, and he fidgeted, moving from foot to foot in a nervous shuffle. 

The red head laughed, ignoring Zoro's dejected grumbling, clearly avoiding eye-contact with the very person he'd been worrying over for the past week or so. So she'd do him this favor, just this once, and even for free. What a generous being she was. Nami turned, careful not to move so fast that her breast bounced, or slammed into her tattoo harshly. _"_ Oh, realmente é bonito. Gústame este. _" Oh he really is cute. I like him._

The swordsman tensed, body stiffening like he got shot and the red head raised a brow, surprised to have garnered such an open reaction. From behind her, Sanji gave a strangled choke, and she looked back, giving an apologetic smile. "Ah, I'm sorry for changing the language on you like that."

"He speaks it." Zoro grit out and without sparing a glance, she could tell that her friend was practically _glowing_ crimson, which was rare. "He knows exactly what you said witch."

This got her to raise both eyebrows, so high that they grazed her hairline, and placed a hand on her hip, before letting out a loud laugh. "So that's why you're so embarrassed. That's adorable." She ignored the way he growled and looked at Sanji. "Gaelic? Really? I didn't think many people still spoke it." 

"Funny, that was my thought process exactly when I chose to learn it." The blonde mumbled, still resolutely not making eye contact with her.

"You _can_ look you know." She teased. "But put hands on me and I'll kill you. Though not before finding a way to steal everything you're worth." Nami said with a pleasant smile. "Don't worry, I'll put my shirt back on soon, but Zoro is helping me out with my tattoo, nothing scandalous, I promise." She leaned in, not missing the way Sanji took a cautious step back, and motioned him closer. "Not that its any of your business what he and I get up to behind closed doors, but we aren't together. Play close attention though, I can tell you as an absolute fact that he's _killer_ with his shirt off."

She moved back, ignoring the teen's indignant sputtering, frantically moving hands, and squeaked out, "Oh no. No, its not like that I swear!" Prancing over to Zoro, the red head plucked the ointment out of his hands before pulling on the strap of his tank top. "Alright big guy. Time to strip." She chirped, gracefully dodging the half-hearted swipe he aim at her. "Ah, ah." She reprimanded lightly. "No need to be so touchy. I think Sanji has already shown that he wouldn't mind a bit of nakedness. Right?" Nami questioned innocently, deciding in that instant that teasing these two was her new favorite past time. 

With an annoyed mutter and tinted cheeks, the swordsman reached for the hem of his shirt, lifting it above in his head in one smooth motion, only wincing slightly. 

_"Merde sacrée._ " Sanji breathed from behind her, and Nami chuckled. 

"So a French boy then. I see. Very nice, you have good taste Zoro." She fixed the blonde with a playful glare. "So impressed you slipped back into your mother tongue, is that it? 'Holy shit' was right though. I can't blame you." The swordsman's tattoos were beautiful, and the most she'd ever seen on a 19 year old. There were several, including horns on the back of his head, nearly covered by the green fuzz of growing hair. 

She watched as the blonde gaped openly, eyes roving Zoro's exposed back, flickering back and forth between her and the swordsman. He wet his lips nervously, before catching her eye and glancing away. 

"I-I'm going to warm up over there, if you don't mind." Sanji said meekly, walking over to a corner of the room, a small bookbag in hand. Nami only smiled, before glancing at Zoro who had a pensive expression. The one he wore only when trying to figure out the best way to approach a subject. He took a breath, seeming to steel himself, and turned to look at Sanji, gesturing at the red head to sit on the blue mat. 

"Oi. Curly." He started, terse, but aloof, and had she not known him fairly well, she would've never picked up on his subtle apprehension. "I texted you. You didn't answer."

There was ab eat of silence, then, " _Shit._ Really?" The blonde fumbled with his phone, whipping it out and opening the screen. " _Shit."_ He cursed again. "Fucking hell. Sorry about that Marimo. I saw that I had messages, but didn't bother to check who they were from."

Nami smirked, fixing her friend with a shit eating grin, one that made him huff. "Marimo, huh? I'm kind of pissed I didn't think of that."

In retaliation he crouched in front of her-- oinment in one hand, bottle in the other-- and poured cold water all over her exposed chest. "Thats what you get witch. And its fine, Curly, you're not under any obligation to test back. I was just asking." He said. She hissed, lurching back as he leered, laughing lowly before handing her a clean towel. "Come on. I'm done, I swear. Let me put this shit on you, so you can treat me."

Setting the bottle down, he squeezed a bit of the cream into his free palm, before rubbing them together. Reaching for her right breast, he lifted it gently, Nami moving to keep it in place, and began smearing the salve. He was diligent, and efficient in the way he rubbed it in, moving his fingers in a circular motion. It stung, but was healing, having just entered its itching phase. 

Soon it was over, and like the softy he was ~~though he'd never admit it~~ Zoro helped her put the binder on once more. It took a bit of maneuvering, but was done fairly quickly and just like that, they switched. 

"The one on your leg is fine right?" He questioned and the red head eyed the ink on her thigh, a skull, courtesy of her idiotic friend who claimed they should all have matching tats despite not being old enough for one yet. Zoro's was on his right arm, a skull holding a katana in its mouth with a dark green bandanna and swords in place of crossbones. 

Such a nerd. "It's fine. Come on, get ready. I have to go soon anyways. another studio contacted me."

He laid on his stomach, arms folded and cheek resting on the back of them. His breathing was easy, smooth, and it hit her, like it did on occasion, that he was exceedingly attractive. The thought was followed immediately by revulsion and a wrinkle of her nose. 

Zoro let out a low noise as the cream hit his skin, and Nami chuckled at the minor payback, running her hands gently over the tattoos. They'd gotten them a while back, not long after they'd met Luffy. Honestly, the woman didn't know if the 17 year old was just a charismatic bastard, or that they were all a group of massive fucking idiots, getting roped into his bullshit, then staying willingly. 

"Another?" The teen asked, and edge in his voice. "They're _still_ asking for interviews?" 

"What can I say? I got pretty infamous. People want to know." She said, trying to sound more unaffected than she felt. "They all want the _scoop._ The truth behind Nami Bellemere, former musician extraordinaire." 

There was a light cough from behind them, and she glanced back to see Sanji mid-stretch, leg completely up side curving nicely. She poked Zoro harshly, giving a knowing smirk as his breath hitched looking at the other. "Sorry to interrupt Nami dear, but I was curious as to how someone of your lovely caliber could end up in the friendship circlue of such a heathen."

She smiled, ruffling Zoro's hair when he snuck a hand back to grip her thigh, a silent question. _You alright? You sure you want to talk about it?_

It wasn't like the blonde wouldn't find out soon, if he didn't already know. 

"Well, Sanji." The red head started, motioning for to turn forward so that she could get the tattoos there as well. "Zoro and I met through a mutual friend of ours. He helped me out of a really bad situation. They both did."

_She'd always wanted to travel the world. Wanted to set out to sea, and see everything it had to offer._

_Fine chance that'd ever happen, being in an unknown and dirt poor town like this, an island left at the mercy of mother nature. No one ever_ _visited, and they hardly had enough of anything._ _Bellemere never said, but Nami knew it was her fault._ _Bellemere, her adoptive mother, who spent most of the measly money she made on her children. Children that she didn't even give birth to. Nami always found it rather unfathomable, that someone would ever love someone who wasn't blood related so strongly._

_But then, she loved her mother all the same so maybe there was something to be said for that line of thinking. Even if her mouth wasn't currently on the same page._

_"Nami." The older woman said, sighing around her cigarette. "I know that money had been tight lately, tighter than normal even, but that doesn't mean I condone you stealing from others. They have to get by too."_

_"You hardly have enough to pay for taxes anymore!" She yelled, 10 years old and obsessed with cash she didn't own. "What else am I supposed to do?" She trailed off, looking down with sullen brown eyes, shifting from foot to foot. "Its the only way I can help. The others say I'm too young for a job."_

_"Be honest. You regret bringing us with you that night. You regret everything don't you--" A loud bang cut off her words and she looked up, met with the angry, glaring face of her mother._

_"What the hell gave you that idea brat? Don't go shoving words into my fucking mouth, I could never regret giving you and Nojiko a home. We're family."_

_And something in her snapped. Maybe it was the unfathomably deep and raw emotion behind the words. Maybe it was the simple fact and logic that refuted the claim. Maybe it was all she could hear was, "I'm dong this for you. I'm suffering for you." and it **hurt** to hear that. Because Nami didn't know family, didn't quote understand the concept. Even with these two people who meant oh so much to her, they never quite felt like family. At least, she didn't think they did. There was nothing to compare it to._

_"WE'RE NOT FAMILY. WE'RE STRANGERS LIVING IN THE SAME HOUSE. Nojiko and I, we're just holding you back, aren't we? You'd be better off without us, wouldn't you?"_

_The slap to her face hurt. But not as much as the silence, heavy breathing and regret filling Bellemere's eyes. Because 10 year old Nami could only see it as regret for saving her life, for allowing such a worthless failure like her to hand around and leech off the woman._

_The worst part was that she understood exactly. She was beginning to learn, had been learned in her short years alive, that currency was everything. She ran and she cried, because that was all a burden like her could do. Maybe if she got lost in the forest, eaten my some bear or other wild animal, it'd make the regret in the woman's eyes fade a little._

_It was the simple fact that nothing could be gained without money, that made the girl covet it. It made the world turn and planets align. Nami wouldn't be surprised if she found out that the Earth paid the Sun to keep rising, and the moon to keeping orbiting._

_The forest was dark, despite the early afternoon. She balled up, knees tucked under her chest and sang softly. Tears fell down her face as rocked back and forth, sticks scratching her skin and poking her arms. She didn't know long she sat there, singing into the air, even the critters and creatures silent. It was mildly amusing, and if she'd been in her right state of mind, she would've found the entire thing kind of charming. Like one of those princesses from the movies._

_Nami always thought being a princess was pointless if it meant having a prince. But money was involved, so it could be that bad._

_Lost in thought, she didn't hear the footsteps, still humming when a gravelly voice said, "Such a pretty voice."_

_She jumped, scrambling to her feet and backing away from the large man who was making his way towards her. His skin glowed blue and sickly under the canopy light. His lips were impossibly, disgustingly large and puckered, making the girl feel like they swallow her whole if she let him cloes and yet should couldn't bring herself to scream._

_The man eyed her, running a tongue over his lips and smiled, gaze dark and predatory. "Yes. The boss will like you." He put out a hand, large and calloused. "This is a shit poor place. How would you like to make some money, little girl?"_

_Somehow she knew, it wasn't really a question, and even less of a choice._

_But she would've gone with him anyways. For the money._

_She'd always wanted to travel the world. And after meeting Arlong, it happened. But of course, like everything else, it came with a price._

_Bellemere's death._

_Nami would later learn that Arlong and his men were nothing more than killers in the skin of a loan shark, though soon she'd understand that there was really no difference between the two._

_Her last words to her mom had been a strangled yell of "I love you!" before watching her get shot in the head, point blank. Simply because she couldn't pay for Nami's existence._

_It was a terribly way to learn that her life in fact, did have tangible worth to someone._

_"This will be your room for the time being." Arlong said, leading her to the dark enclosement. His hand rested on her shoulder, heavy and lingering just a bit too long. "With that pretty mouth of yours, I'm sure you'll make millions." He said cryptically, innuendos far beyond her 10 year old self and black eyes sparkling with a calculating want._

_"And then I can pay off my villages debt?" She asked, hollow and dead even as that large hand moved from her shoulder, down her back to rest on her bottom, giving it a shitty excuse for a comforting squeezing._

_"I'm a liar Nami." He said, voice a raspy purr that made her stomach churn in revulsion, freezing, even as long fingers made its way to the edge and then under her the hem of her dress and up her leg. "But never about money. A business man, you see."_

_And she believed him, because money was everything, and it made the world go round. Arlong was a man who wouldn't let his world stop spinning for anyone, no matter what had to be done or who had to be killed._

_So she heard the threat laced behind the promise of riches._

_He'd given her an allowance. A down payment. "Think of it as a treat for being so obedient. A taste of all things you can have as long as you're a good girl." She was grateful, because it was a start._

_The towns people? Not so much. "Nami, what the hell are you doing? We thought you were dead." Genzo yelled, but the red head only smiled, wobbly and uncertain._

_"I got us some money, see? And I can get more. All I have to do is work for him!"_

_They didn't understand. The just spoke about family. Familyfamilyfamilyfamily. Except Nami's didn't exist anymore. Not without Bellemere._

_She ran, turning her back on the village as they turned their backs on her. They'd see, they'd see soon, when she bought back their freedom._

_The third song she sung in the studio went gold, after just a month. She was 14, and to celebrate it was the first time she gained her first customer._

_-_

_"Spread your legs, open up. I never said you could stop. Unless of course, you're the slut I always suspected you were, and you actually_ like _the pain._ " _Her newest client growled, pushing his glasses and fixing her with a pointed glare. Kuro, a freakishly tall man with black slicked back hair and a cruel smirk. He'd been forcing her to touch herself for the past hour, beating her whenever she slowed or didn't meet her standards._

_Arlong allowed it all, as long as it didn't affect her face or ability to sing it was fine. She cried out in pain as a hand gripped her wrist, shoving it deeper inside. She snarled at him, exposed but trying to let it cow her. "You know, I know a pretty blonde, sickly too. She lets me have my way fairly easy, but its nice dealing with someone who has so much...spunk." Then he choked her until she passed out, the last thing she noticed being penetration of something much larger than her fingers._

_Later that night, Arlong deposited her portion of the check into her untraceable account._

_Nami stared at it until sunrise, curled in a ball in her empty room, blood pooling from different places on her body, Kuro being a man who liked severe knife play. She was getting closer. So close._

_Sweden was a shit place._

_-_

_The first time she tried to escape, she got relatively far. She was 15, having just learned the concept of police and three magic numbers called 112. "They come to you if you're having an emergency." "Police, they protect you."_

_She never had a chance to find out if it was true or not. "Help!" She yelled into the phone. "Help me please! Please! He's--they're. Its bad. I'm in a bad, bad place!" She screamed, breaths coming out in pants, hidden behind a building in Spain. The portion of the city she was in was nearly abandoned and her voice echoed off the walls. The receiver on the other end was silent for a moment, static filling the phone she managed to swipe out the pocket of some passerby, when the dispatcher spoke, sounding bored._

_"And what's your location?"_

_"I'm here." She said, and gave an address. There was a beat of silence, then laughter._

_"I see." The navel voice squeaked, high pitched and amused. "You're Arlong's girl aren't you? He_ did _say we might get a call from you."_

_Nami froze, heart stuttering in her chest. "W-what do you mean?" She whispered. "I- I thought--"  
_

_"That we were the police?" The man tittered. "Well, you're not wrong girl. But we're also human, and you must know that many things in life can be won over at a fair price."_

_The worst part was that she understood exactly. She should've known, had been taught first hand, even in her short years alive, that currency was **everything**. _

_"Arlong said he expects you back within the hour. And that the longer it takes, the more painful it'll be for you. I suggest you hurry girl. I, myself, might visit soon, and I'd prefer not to have sloppy seconds." He said, and hung up._

_Nami stood, staring blankly at the sky as it started to rain, drops of water soon turning hail and ice. It was as though Mother Nature herself mourned. She then began to make her way back, hope draining with every step._

_"I am your Gatekeeper." Arlong growled, large hand wrapped around her throat, her body still dripping from the rain. "If you come up anywhere else, I'll erase you." He slammed her against the wall, erection prominent and forced her legs around his waist, rutting into her sharply. The bite to her shoulder **burned** , a branding unlike anything else and the man gave a feral grin. His hand reached behind him, gripping one of the spare bottles of Hennessy, he kept around to make her more...plaint. "Drink up bitch. I have champagne by the case." _

_Without waiting for an answer, he shoved the bottle in her mouth, letting go of her neck so she could swallow, and Nami thrashed, screaming muffled. "I am your Gatekeeper." He repeated, harsh this time, pulling on her hair, so hard some left her scalp and tears pricked her eyes. "You know I'm holding the dreams that you're chasing. You know your job. You know how this goes, don't you?" He gripped her jaw, pulling the bottle away. "You know you're supposed to get drunk and get naked."_

_So he stripped her, dropping her on the bed and ripping of her clothes._

_Nami let it happen, because the people she loved needed it to happen. And she was too weak to fight back anyways. He slapped her across the cheek, alcohol finally settling and mind too muddled to attempt to dodge. "Just wait til 5 years down the road and you're failing. Who will you turn to then? Who will want a defiled bitch like you?"_

_No one. And maybe she spoke out loud, because Arlong gave an approving nod. "Exactly." His hand was back on her hair, and he yanked her body down, off the bed and to the floor. "Get on your knees, don't you know what your place is?" He pulled his pants down, erection standing proudly and she began to cry, knowing what was about to happen but unable to stop it. Arlong leaned and gave a broad lick up the side of her breasts. "I have gold on my dick girl, don't you want to taste it?"_

_She didn't answer, and couldn't anyways, mouth being stretched open and disgusting stench filling her nose._

_Suffice it to say, Nami didn't bother trying to escape anymore. Or return to Spain for that matter._

_-_

_The first time she met Monkey D. Luffy, she was 16 and in America, having just consulted with the producer of her newest song, which is to say she'd just come from having dick shoved unceremoniously down her throat._

_The boy fell out of the sky, falling on the ground, camera in hand and some makeshift wing contraption strapped to his back. His smile was wide as day, and seemingly endless, jumping up to his like he hadn't just fallen god knew how far.  
_

_"Well guys! Seems like hang gliding just isn't for me! Well then, what should I try next?" The boy cheered, looking into the camera happily._

_"Maybe you should try being_ SAFE _for once!" Another voice yelled, deep and angry, though exceedingly affectionate. She looked and saw a teen slightly older than her making his way towards them. The newcomer had tanned skin, bright green hair, and what seemed like a perpetual scowl on his face though even Nami could tell it was hollow as he scooped the younger boy up and searched him for injuries. "We_ just _got out of juvenile detention and fucking around with your bullshit is going to put us right back in. Property damage and shit."_

_"But Zooorrrrooo." The boy whined, a large pout on his face. "If the only person who's getting hurt is me, then what's the issue?"_

_"That's not the point!" The green haired teen huffed, cheeks poking out childishly. Then an amber gaze was on her, instantly hard and distrusting. "Who're you?"_

_Luffy turned, his neck making an unsavory crack and regarded her with wide black eyes before bursting out into a huge smile, camera facing her. He gazed swiveled away, looking at something on his phone, which was apparently connected to the camera because his mouth stretched in a wide O.  
_

_"YOU'RE A SINGER???" He exclaimed, and Nami flinched, forgetting that her face was growing in publicity, even here, in America._

_"I am." She responded tersely, Polish accent thick and heavy. Suddenly feeling scared and exposed. It felt like those obsidian eyes knew what she had gotten into behind closed doors. That she'd been on her knees, blowing a man who said "flashily" every other word. That she was no where as pure as her music, well, her old songs, before the inevitable serialization had begun. "Nami Bellemere."_

_"Monkey Luffy! But you can just call me Luffy! And thats Zoro!" Luffy chirped, tossing a thumb behind him, at the the tan teen who was staring stoically at her, something searching in his gaze._

_"Hey, you seem real smart Nami. You any good with money?" The teen asked, straw hat sprawled haphazardly over a mop of messy black hair._

_The red head laughed, then stopped, surprised at how genuine it was. "Damn right I am." She said, just short of bragging. As she spoke, Luffy's gaze turned calculating, his smile sharper and her cut his eyes towards Zoro. The older teen said nothing, but gave a near imperceptible nod._

_As she walked off-- on a timed expedition-- the green haired one slid a card into the back pocket of her shorts, his fingers fleeting, unlike so many before him._

_"BYYYYEEE NAMI!!! SEE YOU LATER!!!"_

_She just raised a hand, not looking back, and wanting to forget about the first kind people that she'd met in a long time._

_It wasn't until much later that Nami remembered the card they gave her and she pulled it out, eyes widening as she read the words across the back._

"Strawhat and Co. Join us!" _Under was a series of numbers, too long to be a phone number, but not a serial number either. The red head stared at it for a long time, trying to figure out what it meant, when she remembered the way Zoro handed her card, discreet-like, and the fact that Luffy hadn't asked her to "join" him aloud. Plus the fact that he told spoke as if he'd see her again._

_It made her think, and out of curiosity she pulled out a pencil from her studio desk and began writing, starting with the numbers._

_235 3114 8591 251521_

_There spaces, which meant that each set of numbers equaled a single word and going by that logic, all she'd need to so was decode each set, the being fairly simple in and of itself._

_When she was finished, she stared in shock, fear, and a bit of awe at the words displayed before her._

We can help you.

_That was a phrase she'd never heard, and it made the singer tingle with several emotions. On the back was an actual phone number, and she committed the sight to memory, before balling up the card and throwing it in the trash._

"A mutual friend?" Sanji questioned, and Nami smiled, thinking about her idiotic captain. 

"Yeah, you'll likely meet him soon enough. I'm sure you two would get along well, as long as you can protect your food from him."

Zoro was tense under her hands and she slapped his stomach, making him let out a breath. She wiped her hands on the towel, pulling her shirt up and over her head and flashing the blonde with a charming grin. "It seems I've stirred up a few shitty memories. How about a quick spar?"

"Sure." Sanji agreed easily enough, standing and hopping from foot to foot. "I don't really like the idea of fighting a lady, but it seems like you need it."

Nami grinned, feral and unrestrained. "Trust me I'm not a lady when it comes to battle. And lets make it interesting, why don't we?"

The blonde raised one curly eyebrow, a cute smirk playing on his lips, blue eyes reflecting with a similar haunting. "Oh yeah?"

"Whoever wins gets to take the _Marimo_ here to lunch." She narrowed her eyes, speaking in Hindi, one of the few languages she knew Zoro couldn't understand. She wasn't sure if the blonde could speak it as well, but something told her he could. "Main jaanata hoon ki aap chaahate hain. Aur vah aisa nahin lag sakata hai, lekin vah bhee aisa karana chaahata hai." _I know you want to. And he may not look like it, but he wants to as well._

Sanji's cheeks flushed and he gave a cute little smile, stepping onto the mat. "You're on."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you believe this was supposed to be 10 chapters originally?  
> Ha, real fucking funny past me.
> 
> Thoughts? I put my soul into this chapter, so it'd be appreciated.
> 
> Also, if you're interested I can do I side oneshot at some point that has more details about Nami's past. Maybe even a mini fic. Part of her backstory was influenced by the song Gatekeeper by Jessie Reyez  
> Also, I didn't even get to the good part, that'll be next chapter, as well as some ZOSAN. (For real this time, I swear)
> 
> List of Zoro's tattoos(bc they dont all get mentioned)
> 
> Devil Horns on the back of his head. (he has an undercut, but his top hair is pretty grown out, which is why Sanji never noticed)  
> "Made in Hell" Is on the back on his neck in small print. He thought it was amusing, like a human tag. Also fits into the whole, "Demon" thing.  
> Going vertical down his spine is the title of this fic, "Borne of Blood, Thicker Than Water"  
> On his upper right arm is his personalized Jolly Roger that Oda made for him.  
> On his left arm, starting from his hand, and going up in a spiral is a Dragon Made From The Different Mugiwara's Names. The head of the dragon rests on his left shoulder blade. Its wearing a straw hat.  
> Along the Scar on his chest, is the phrase, "L'union Fait La Force"  
> Under that phrase, is Kuina's name.
> 
> (Also fun fact: My ot3 is totally Zoro, Nami, and Sanji.)  
> Nami and Zoro as queer platonic and the both of them as romantic with Sanji.  
> This is a strictly ZoSan fic, but I wanted to share that little tid bit
> 
> Much credit and love to my beta reader bakayaro_onna 😘😘  
> Thanks so much!🥰  
> (I just posted the raw version. I will be replacing it with the beta'd version in a few days)


	8. Interlude: The Fourth Brother and Some Fucking Dessert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Triumvirate. Some of the most powerful figures in the New World. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of like a filler chapter? But also kinda important?  
> Really just me wanting to update this fic for no good reason xD  
> Oh and Pudding's in this! Pudding is also the same age as Sanji by the way, just to make my life a bit easier

Yonji hated meetings. They were so fucking pointless and solved nothing, filled with people who'd rather talk than _do._ And besides, he wasn't really one for conversation. At least, not if it wasn't on something he found interesting. Something that would help him help _**her**. _

"Hey there pretty boy.~" Came a sultry voice and Yonji felt his irritation spike-- _because of fucking course_ she'd show up-- and contemplated whether or not he should should just ignore her, before deciding against it. Better to get it over with now, this little dance of theirs, though it was more of a a game of cat and mouse, Yonji always narrowly managing to avoid getting pounced on.

He leaned back against the wall, its paint a faded gray and silently willed the Triumvirate to fucking hurry and open the damned door. Another reason he hated meetings, the fucking wait just to get _in_ the room. Like what the fuck? It made no sense. 

"Puppy?" She asked, and Yonji could practically _feel_ her eyelashes batting coyly, gaze wide and striking, an obvious but effective ploy. At least it would be, if he were anyone but himself.

"Morning _Princess."_ He said, slinging the name out like a slur as he fiddled with the cigarette in his mouth, hands in his pockets and a sardonic smile twisting his features. He was really starting to pick up on Sanji's shitty habits. "Any new victims lately? Speaking of which--" Yonji glanced around in mild curiosity, and was only partially surprised when he didn't spot her most recent human pet, some poor idiot caught wandering around the wrong part of the city at the wrong time. She must've gotten tired of him. "No pet? I thought you had him on a tight leash."

"That guy?" Her voice was dismissive, exceedingly bored and the pale teen fought the urge to look at her, because he knew his expression would reflect a ruthless visage contempt. "I got rid of him. He no longer interested me."

At that, Yonji barked out a short laugh, abrasive in its nature and brought a hand up, pulling the cigar from between his lips in and blew out a long strand of smoke, watching in satisfaction as its wispy strands wound its way around his long digits.

"Fucking figures." He replied, tilting his head back to let it rest on the wall, chin slightly elevated. Through his peripheral he could see her standing across the hall, shoulder leaning against the door. A tall brunette with sharp brown eyes and pouty lips set onto fair skin. Her white button up was dotted in red specs, tucked into a bright pink mini skirt, thigh high socks completing the "Japanese school-girl look" though with her figure it was elevated into something more. Something sexy. Something dangerous. And she knew it.

Her.

Pudding. Monster Princess, baking extraordinaire.

 _The hell were her parents thinking, giving the woman a name like that?_ Yonji smirked, letting out a small scoff and closed his eyes. It wasn't like it mattered. In fact, her parent got it spot on. Damned woman was a menace and a force to be carefully reckoned with. Terrifying one second and sweet as a dessert the next. 

"What happened?" He asked, not bothering to open his eyes. She was pretty sure, but smart too. She knew better than to try and approach him physically. Regardless, he'd just pulled an all nighter in the labs, so like hell was he gonna waste his precious eye juices on _Pudding_ of all people. "You scare the pathetic shit away?"

"Nope! He died willingly, practically begged. So dull. Buuuut~" Her voice chimed mischievously, erotic rumble still lacing her words. "I'd love to get drinks with someone big and strong. The whole package so to speak."

There it was, the climax of their daily word dance, the moment where the enchantress tries to snare her prey. 

_But alas..._ Yonji thought, letting out a low sigh, cigarette long forgotten and discarded, its ashes scattered across the concrete floor, painting an odd mural with dried blood. _Tis all for naught._

He opened an eye, green iris shining with a wellspring of malice, eerily at odds with the companionable lilt of his voice.

"Sorry to break it to you, but I'm under-aged. For everything you just insinuated. And older women seem like they'd be a pain in the ass." He stated, using his elbows to push off of the wall and began walking towards the door, the scent of rose perfume becoming overbearing as he drew closer to Pudding. In truth she was only 19, a year older than him, but he felt like pushing buttons. 

Those damn idiots. Calling him and claiming that it was urgent, only to have him wait outside like a damn dog. Like hell.

"Besides," Yonji added, scorn leaking and tainting his timbre, despite the genuine grin gracing his lips.. They were standing shoulder to shoulder, facing opposite directions. It was closest that they'd ever been to each other. And the closest they'd ever be. "I have no clue _what_ kind of creepy crawlies you might have living down there. Might be cooties." 

There was a terrible, deafening silence, and through his satisfaction at finally silencing the woman, Yonji had the barest inkling that he might've gone too far, just this once as the air became ominous. 

"You fucking _brat_." Her words were a thinly veiled hiss, and before he even realize that he'd moved, his hand held her wrist in an ever-tightening grip, long fingernails barely a millimetre from his throat. "Just wait. I'll have you on your _knees_ little boy. And I can't fucking wait to absolutely _wreck_ you."

Their faces were close, brown strands of her hair coming down to brush Yonji's lashes, her dark gaze brimming with hatred. A tender moment about to be shared between lovers. A boy who held his girlfriend's hand near his chest, maybe because their heartbeats were in sync. Two composed people, who looked, by societies standards, like a cute couple.

_Humans are fucking idiots._

"You're always welcome to try Princess. But I'm not easy. You should know that first hand." With that he shoved past her, gripping the door handle in his palm, its wooden knob digging into his flesh, before throwing it opening causing whatever conversation was going to stop.

It never failed to amaze him, how large their facility was. A fucking warehouse that spanned over 60 acres and looked abandoned from the outside, but filled with cutting edge technology and an underground facility that was even bigger.

"Alright, tea party's over. You wanted me here and I'm here. What do you want from me?" His voice echoed loudly in the expansive room and all three figures turned in his direction, their faces obscured by shadows.

Vinsmoke Judge, his father. A large, imposing man. Dangerous.

Big Mom. Largest candy producers alive. Not to mention drugs. The cops suspected them, how could they not? But she kept her people careful, left no traces. 

Crocodile. Strong, or he used to be. Until a devastating loss way back when. Before _that man_ decided to leave for whatever unknown reason. Monkey D. Luffy.

The Triumvirate. Some of the most powerful figures in the New World. 

"Who said that you may enter?" The Judge had a deep voice, a rumbling undertone like an oncoming storm. He'd be concerned and even on edge if it was a normal day, but Yonji was jacked high on irritation and could give less than a fuck if his father was a bit angry.

"The logical part of my brain that told me it liked these shoes and would hate to see a certain brunnette's blood splattered all over them." His tone was strained, the tireless night catching up with him. He could feel Big Mom's heated glare on him, but chose to ignore it, snarling at Pudding's tittering laugh. 

The Judge began moving and Yonji tensed, preparing to be hit, but then a slim arm blocked the large man's path. Crocodile. He didn't mind the little shit. In the same way that no one minded a roach as long as it stayed outside.

"At ease, Vinsmoke. If you wish to discipline your children do it somewhere else." The man grunted, reminding Yonji that he wasn't the only one in the room. He clicked his tongue, crossing his arms and running calculations through his head. 

"Pudding? Come forward."

Rigidly, she began his walk, kneeling in front of her mother's chair as though she were going to propose. Though it was more like worship. Despite her moderate dislike of them, she respected the Triumvirate. They were strong, and inadvertently taught her to be strong. Taught her how to take a life. _Especially_ her mother. She owed her life to Charolette Lin Lin.

"You. You are both my thief and my blade." 

Pudding felt a hand run along her neck, nothing about the touch seductive, instead it seemed like a motherly stroke. She tensed slightly when thick, fat, fingers ran over her branding, seared onto the back of her neck. It was an odd sensation. The words were a show of faith, but the action, the silent reminder of who she was allied with, that was nothing but a threat. A promise. Papers were placed in her hand and Pudding was confronted with an amazingly sweet looking teen around her age. She felt his excitement swell, but forced herself to calm down.

"This is your target. Steal his heart, bring him to our side. And if that proves impossible, _end_ his life. Whatever it takes, no matter the cost. Do not fail me." The hand around her throat became a vise grip, surprisingly filled with formidable strength. It was a clear, unspoken, _"Or I'll kill you."_

"You will _not_ kill the target." Vinsmoke Judge interjected, eyes narrowing. "That is not the agreement that we spoke of. He must not die." 

The room was silent, until her lovely mother began to laugh, loud and all encompassing. "Feisty." The woman said, pulling out a chocolate bar and giving it a large bite. "Almost makes me think you're hiding something from me." 

Judge ignored her, instead looking directly at Pudding. "Do what you will with his emotions, but do _not_ kill him. Or give bodily harm unless instructed by _me._ Are we clear?"

It was perfectly fine with her. She loved when the odds were unbeatable. And the blonde looked like he'd be the most fun that Pudding had had in a long time. Her shoulders began shaking, her laughter overflowing but not making a sound, not able to breath.

"Very well." She drawled, when she'd been released by her mother, standing up and executing a flourished bow, hand with the files swinging out. "As you wish. I shall not fail you mother."

She smirked, her canines flashing as she stalked out of the dark room, door slamming behind her.

_Give fear a face and you’ll not only have a symbol…. but a target. Fear alone, without a solid representation, is much more frightening and as a result, its more powerful. Fear’s symbol is invisible and therefore, it can be everywhere. It_ **_is_ ** _everywhere. Without a face, any and everyone is subject to fear, regardless of if they’re causing or succumbing to it._

Pudding smirked, feeling excited. That ideology was so smart that it was….well, _scary_.

But in the end, fear or not, there wasn't much holding her back. The only thing of importance to the girl was her mission.

The pale teen huffed, sparing one last glance at the document in her hand before letting it go.

A photograph trailed to the ground, landing lightly, two words written over a shadow- obscured face.

Vinsmoke Sanji.

Hopefully he'd be much more fun to tease than his brother. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that Yonji is technically the thirsty one, but still. I just wanted to. xD


	9. One Hell of A Team

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried with this vrsihbjbvs  
> its been a rough few weeks

His fighting was like dancing. It reminded the swordsman of a faucet. Gushing water, bursting attacks one moment and a controlled streams, calculating kicks the next. He twisted and turned, bending one way and then the next, not above using feints. 

It shouldn't have been as mesmerizing as it was, watching the racer. The blonde's body contorted in ways that really shouldn't be physically possible, but inhuman flexibility gave him an endless range of mobility. 

Zoro watched with a disbelieving eye as Sanji slid his hands into tight clad pockets, observing Nami with a calculating gaze. He wanted to tell the blonde idiot that underestimating the redhead was a bad fucking idea but something in the stance Sanji held made him stop. Nami was still circling the blonde, her eyes narrowed and gaze scrutinizing but she made no motion to attack, instead seemingly cowed. 

Soon enough, it became apparent why. The pale racer, despite having his torso exposed, left no real opening, especially not any that weren't ploys. 

Zoro clicked his tongue, impressed that Nami managed to catch on to that before him, though perhaps being within the midst of the match helped too. Sanji reared back from a left hook, stumbling back a few feet and let out a low whistle. 

"You're fast." The blonde praised, and even though the words weren't directed at him, the swordsmen felt pride bubble in his chest. "Much faster than the average woman."

Even from his seat on the ground some distance away, Zoro could practically _see_ the vein pop on Nami's forehead. It was clear that Sanji hadn't meant anything by the statement, but the way it was spoken came of dismissive. He shook his head, smiling to himself as he watched the redhead readjust her position, standing up straight and jutting a hip out. 

"I'm _far_ from average." Nami growled, expression shifting to something contemplating. “You’re holding back, aren’t you? How bout it pretty boy, how do you feel about going against an armed opponent?”

Sanji gave a serene smile, dopey grin bordering on love struck as he exclaimed, “Ah she’s even lovelier when she’s determined.” His eyes sharpened, and his features shifted to something more dangerous. “Whatever works for you, _mellorine.”_

Zoro snorted, biting back his laughter with all he had. Nami was positively _seething,_ wearing the fuax smile she donned only when she was set on utterly _decimating someone._ The swordsman was curious to see where the new development of this skirmish would lead. Without a doubt, Sanji was far stronger than the redhead, possibly even stronger than she'd _ever_ be. But the blond was also exceedingly arrogant, and Nami was about to come into possession of a weapon. One that was exceedingly dangerous depending on the user. 

In Nami's hands the climatic was beyond devastating. Something that even Zoro himself would have a bit of trouble handling. 

Luckily, there would be no strange weather phenomena today-- he _hate_ to have to explain _that_ shit to the owners of his favorite gym, let alone pay for any reparations-- as the redhead strutted over to him, reaching her hand out insistently. 

With a sigh, he forked over one of his shinai, comforting himself with the knowledge that it wasn't one of his favorites ones-- which he left at home for the day. "You break her, you die." Zoro growled, feeling his lips twitch at Nami's triumphant smile. Damn witch was really charismatic when she wanted to be. 

"Alright!" The girl exclaimed, looking back at Sanji, who had relaxed his posture some. "I'm going to make you _sweat_ blondie."

It was like she was an entirely different person. It rested in the air, heavy an ominous, tension thick. It made the hairs on the back of Zoro's neck stand at attention, fingers itching to curl around Wado and join the battle he was watching. Nami was faster, agility she possessed coming into play and much smoother with her added weapon. She was light on her feet, delivering lightning fast strikes that Sanji met blow for blow. 

She took a step forward, aiming the end of her shinai at the bottom of his chin and forcing the blond to flip back. Too late, Sanji realized his mistake and wasn't mobile enough to prevent his feet from getting hooked. The racer racer fell mid-air, curling his body and bracing to spring right up. He landed on his back, using elbows to steady himself over his hands, but in a flash the redhead was on him, pinning his body beneath her and leaving a fist poised at his face. 

They were both breathing heavy, sweat falling leisurely down the side of her face as she composed herself. Sanji's eye was blown wide, surprise evident in his shocked expression. 

Zoro laughed, not stopping even when that blue gaze was directed at him, glaring and playfully betrayed. "I don't know what you were expecting Curly." 

Instead of a lash out response like he expected, the blond looked back at Nami, with an almost panicked expression. "Let's have a rematch! Best two out of three!" 

The redhead grinned evilly, saying something he couldn't understand, and really, that was dangerous. Who knew _what_ kinds of evil shenanigans the witch was plotting. Clearly nothing good, as her words caused Sanji to flush a brilliant red, the blond shaking his head and stuttering profusely. 

It seemed the racer was useless in the presence of women. 

"Don't worry about it." Nami said, standing up and moving a away, before holding her hand out. "I forfeit the match anyways. Just this once though, I really _am_ on a time frame here."

She turned to Zoro, holding out the shinai. "Here. And hand me my cell, will you." 

He caught the practice weapon with ease, laying it on the floor and stood, beginning to make his way over to the other corner of the gym, where his speaker was connected to the witch's phone. Some song had come to an end, the swordsman having tuned out the music a while back, too preoccupied with the fight he'd been watching. He froze though, as the next track started, a familiar tune beginning to blare out and he winced, knowing what was going to happen next. 

You stitch your dreams, but they'll never hold  
You're falling by the wayside  
Falling by the wayside  
Down you go

"What the hell Nami! You have this saved on your playlist???" Zoro exclaimed, his face becoming inflamed as he heard his voice emanate from the small speaker, suddenly sounding impossibly loud. The redhead was snickering, though a fond smile belied her true feelings. She glided over, throwing an arm over his shoulder, placing a peck on his cheek. 

"It was our first song together. My first step to freedom. How could I _not_ have it on my playlist?" She asked, laughing as Zoro ducked his face, feeling Sanji's stare on him and being completely embarrassed. "Don't worry, you sound _particularly_ sexy. Very nice."

He punched her in the arm, a small smile playing on his lips. 

If you wanna feel alive   
We could set the world alight   
There is so much you could be if only you'd join me   
We make one hell of a team

Their voices mingled, singing the chorus together and despite himself, he felt his lips move in sync, remembering how much it had been, making this with Nami. 

_"Don't you think singing a song about freedom is going to be suspicious?" Nami questioned, looking at him with a skeptic expression. Zoro shrugged, twirling the the pencil before placing it on his lips and trapping it between his nose._

_"I think its like saying 'fuck you' without the actual words. I don't see why we shouldn't do it."_

_Nami kept her eyes narrowed for a second longer before sighing, wearing a small grin. "Whatever. Just be glad I'm the rebellious kind."_

_Zoro gave a matching smile, eyes dark and blood thrumming, excited for what would soon follow. "We wouldn't have tried to help you if you weren't some kind of fighter. Luffy doesn't save people who won't try to save themselves." it was a simple fact, the way one said the sky was blue, or that after Monday was Tueday._

_Luffy helped whoever helped themselves. He was selfish like that, and like called to like. Luckily, the redhead wasn't the kind to go down without bringing other with her, and Zoro respected her tenacity. Her spirit was strong, this Nami Bellemere, and once he and Luffy set her free, she was going to dominate the world._

_All they were waiting for now was the go ahead from Garp._

_It was coming. Soon._

-

_Zoro stood poised outside the door. His chest fucking burned from his recent encounter with Mihawk, but he really had no time to worry about that. He looked over to his left, making eye contact with Luffy, who have a minute nod and then to Nami, who looked frightened, but determined. Smoker would be there shortly, which meant they'd have to be quick._

_Luffy broke down the door, and Zoro watched in mild satisfaction as it clattered to the ground. They stormed in, Ace tossing gasoline all over the wooden tiles. "Remember, don't light until we leave!" The swordsman yelled causing the freckled teen to laugh. It was in moment like these he wished they'd kept Usopp around instead of sending him over to Alabasta. They could use his long range abilities._

_Arlong was a strong as fuck bastard, with stupidly weak followers. The only reason he struggled as much as he did was because the fucking slashing on his chest hurt like_ hell. _He cut down one man, grinning evilly as he felt the warm blood splatter across his face and went after someone else. Soon, there was enough blood to swim in, a literal bath._

_Nami was holding her down fairly well and Zoro was pleased to note the satisfied glint in her eyes. He watching in mild admiration as Luffy manged to pin Arlong down, before choking the man into oblivion. Zoro glanced back at Nami, who's eyes had grown wide, likely realizing the reality of their situation._

_He held out his hand, tucking her face into the crook of his neck and told her, "Don't look, not if you don't want to see someone killed."_

_And the damn woman looked anyways._

_Zoro would be lying if he said he didn't fall in love a bit, seeing such strong resolve in someone who suffered so much._

_They were gone, long before Smoker got there, and Arlong's death was broad casted in the news._

_There was also reports of a small, hand drawn flag being left at the scene. One of a skull and cross bones, wearing a Straw Hat._

_"So they know it wasn't an accident." Luffy said. "And that I'll do it again if I have to."_

_Not much time passed after that, did the black haired idiot then insist that they get matching tatoos."_

_"You're mine. And anyone who hurts you will die."_

_Nakama._

_That was the word Luffy used._

_It was the day they became official. And Zoro realized he was following an insane man._

_He couldn't bring himself to regret it._

"Feels like so long ago." Zoro said, humming lowly. "Crazy to think I've only known you for almost 3 years."

"Yeah!" Nami agreed, rubbing his arm soothingly. "Its insane. So much time has passed, and its nothing at all." She glanced over at Sanji, who was shuffling awkwardly and laughed, unplugging her phone before walking towards the blonde, stopping to give him a hug and small kiss on the cheek. 

"He's all yours blondie. Take good care of the idiot, okay? If you don't I'll kill you." She walked past, grabbing her diacarded bag and reached the door before pausing again. "I don't like talking about what happened to me. But if you listen to my album Romance Dawn, it should tell you the story well enough. Zoro and Luffy, they...they really did help me. He's a good guy, Sanji."

And with that she left. The gym was silent, almost ridiculously so. Zoro glanced over at the blonde, half expecting him to be wearing a teasing smirk. He did not, in fact, expect to see a fond smile, etched over softened features and an unfairly blue eye gazing at him with an affection that zapped warmth through the swordsman's body. 

"So." Sanji started, looked satisfied. "Singing, huh?"

"Fuck you." Zoro retorted.

The blonde laughed and the swordsman vowed to never tell him that the sound of his laugh was better than any music.

"Come on." Sanji said, punching him in the arm lightly. "I'll take you to get something to eat. Gotta keep up the "gods took inspiration from my sculpted ass" shape somehow, right?"

Law sighed, shrugging off his long white coat, hanging it on the available rack. Luffy had been a particular handful today, complaining about how Zoro was neglecting hanging out with him over _some pretty blonde he met in a race._ The surgeon didn't bothering answering, knowing the 17 year old didn't care in the simple sense that he wasn't actually jealous.

His dark eyes sparkled with a shred of happiness, the way it did when the overly energetic teen sensed a potential friend. The sulky pout that he wore was adorable though, but Law would much rather be sedated and tested on rather than admit that aloud instead of the safe confines of his mind. Regardless, the 17 yea old was unusually quiet the entire time, even taking care to clean up after himself, giving the surgeon a shining smile. 

"Shihihi, Torao has been very tired lately, so I want to help. But when you're tired, sleep." Luffy had said, baby face completely serious and Law allowed himself a small smile in return, patting the kid on his head. 

"It's hard to follow sage advice such as that when I'm in the middle of an operation." He replied dryly, expression deadpan. "It _is_ my job to make sure they stay alive and get well." 

The teen only shrugged carelessly, eyes taking on their unusual void, the gaze that gave Law chills. "They're dying anyways right? People die. Its my job to make sure _you_ feel good. That's all I care about."

Law hadn't been sure how to respond, completely floored, the way he always was when Luffy reminded him just how _selfish_ he was. It was as disgusting as it was flattering to be considered at such a level of importance.

In the end, Luffy left, boisterous and energetic as always. His voice echoed down the hallways and the surgeons coworkers all gave him knowing smiles. 

Law sauntered into his office, fresh from the lunch lounge and carrying a steaming mug of coffee in his hands. The words sat warm and heated under the pads of his finger and the surgeon smirked to himself. having long memorized what was engraved. 

_One Cup of Fuckoffe_

_1 splash of No One Cares_

_A Dash of Kiss My Ass_

_Add Some Fuck Yous_

_A Pinch of Blow Me_

_Stir and shove it up your ass_

It was fitting, completely. A gift from Penguin and Sachi and Law would never admit to cherishing the damn thing. Though he was sure the sound of his loud, snorting laughter gave them some sort of idea of his appreciation. 

The surgeon tensed, good mood instantly dissipating as he smelled the tale tell scent of impending lung cancer and a soon to be patient. Possibly-- _hopefully--_ a soon to be grave. At his desk sat Chief Smoker, man holding a fat cigar between his lips and Law wondered how the hell he managed to get past security like that. It wasn't like the large officer was even _that_ intimidating. 

Though Law himself had tattoos that promised death so he likely wasn't the best one to speak about intimidation. 

He held in a snort as he saw the man look up, smoke falling from his nostrils as he took in the doctor, before huffing in moderate dislike. "Lock the door behind you Trafalgar."

"Really, no _'I've been waiting for you_ ' line? How disappointing." Law gave the most equivalent expression he could muster to have some semblance to a pout. It worked well enough, judging by the officer's almost disgusted growl.

"Cut the shit doctor. I'm not here for your games and satire."

"Of course not, you're here for my _charming_ personality and numerous bags under these tired as fuck, "I've been up for over 48 hours without a wink of sleep" eyes." Law drawled, sure the tension in his body had only coiled tighter. "But _please_ , tell me. To what do I owe the pleasure, White Fang?"

"Stop eyeing your coffee like you plan on throwing at me." The man said, stubbing out his cigarette, ~~on an ash tray he brought himself meaning the old bastard was getting too fucking comfortable~~. "This won't take long. Its about the case files I showed you last week. I went ahead and checked with the autopsy department and learned that the victims I showed you, they were cancer patients, each at varying stages."

The 24 year old gave a slow clap, as well as he could with the mug of coffee in his hangs and let out a low whistle. "Congratulations officer. You discovered a piece of the puzzle." He deadpanned. "Care to explain why you're telling _me?_ Seems you're doing well enough without my assistance."

Smoker gave him a serious once over, before leaning forward, gray eyes dark and demanding. 

"You used to worked for Domflamingo." At _that_ fucker's name, Law felt his blood run cold, not liking the turn of conversation. "You tested on people. Saw their insides. Learned about shit that'll never see the day of light." Smoker paused, before continuing. "You _do_ see where I'm going with this, right doctor?"

He steadied himself, pulling out the chair from across the police officer and sitting down, doing what he could to compose himself. "And am I correct to assume that this conversation will be _off_ the record? No cameras, voice recorders, or any other secret gadgets you might be keeping on your person?" Law took a sip of his coffee, reveling in its warmth, and felt more awake, more aware. Which apparently he needed to be for this conversation. "I don't mind bending the rules White Fang but the Accords are fragile. Delving into my past or the pasts of those I associate with will have have disastrous effects if discovered by the wrong people. I won't put Luffy in danger like that."

Let alone Cora, or Bepo, who was employed by the Vinsmokes currently and god knew what mess they had that poor boy meddling in. Law was going to protect them all, regardless of what he had to do to assure that safety. 

Including murder. Smoker seemed to sense his resolve, because he raised his hands, giving a placating gesture. 

"This conversation never leaves this room. And the knowledge I gain never leaves my brain."

"Not like you have much of either to begin with. Knowledge I mean. Or a brain." The surgeon snarked, feeling his body relax at the promise. Despite their differences, he knew the officer was a fairly decent human being. Better than others he knew at least. 

The man smiled, or rather, gave the closet thing he could, which happened to be a closed lipped smirk. "I must be learning sarcastic surgeon speech because all I'm hearing is an agreement to speak." Smoker waved an inviting hand. "So go on, whenever you're ready."

"The cases I dealt with in the underground were for discovering a cure for Amber Lead, which was a direct attack on the immune system and skin. Its similar to cancer, but without the accumulation or tampering of tumors. Once more, you seem to be close to a break through, but not quite there Mr. Officer." Law took another sip of his drink, purring internally. "There's something missing, though if you bring the full notes discerning these cases, I _just_ might help you."

"Very well. You're an interesting man, Trafalgar." Smoker said, standing up and collecting his files. He brushed off his white jackets, lapels decorated in various badges. 

The surgeon let out a dry laugh, attempting to spin in his chair before realizing he was in wasn't of the spinning variety. "No, not at all. I'm just morbidly fascinated. I do, however, expect a cut of your paycheck whenever the hell you solve this case." He raised a brow, daring Smoker to deny him. The official was over so often that even _Luffy_ noticed and questioned him about it. If he didn't know any better, he'd say the kid was jealous. 

The officer paused, cracking a grin and shaking his head. "I'll think about it. Oh and, tell Betty I said thanks."

It was only after Smoker disappeared that Law realized the big oaf had helped himself to some his precious coffee. He ran to his officer door and flung it open.

"I'll _maim_ you!" The surgeon yelled into the empty hallway. 

"And you brought me to some prissy cafe because....?" Zoro questioned, looking around the bright pink and blue walls and feeling completely out of place. The cafe was quiet and quaint. There weren't many people around, but it still made the swordsman mildly uncomfortable. 

"Oi! It's not prissy! And it has good lunch." Sanji retorted, voice trailing off ass he eyed a brunette waitress, clad in a close to skimpy uniform. Zoro watched with great satisfaction as the blond nearly fell flat on his ass, craning his neck to watch as the girl glided off an out of sight. 

The swordsman snorted, not even able to bring himself to feel anything other than pure amusement. "Good lunch." He repeated mockingly. "Right, of _course_ that's what you meant, Curly." 

"Jealous Marimo?" the smug bastard asked, raising one stupid, spiral eyebrow as he leaned on the palm of his hand. "Don't be."

Zoro huffed, rolling his eyes. "As if. Don't get too excited Curliecue. You annoy me more than anything."

"And yet you're here with me." 

"I like annoying you." He shrugged. 

They lapsed into silence, and Zoro took the time to observe Sanji. He really was unfairly attractive. His hair looked soft, downy, and it fell over his knuckles, only highlighting the smooth, pale skin. 

"How come you run track?" The blonde asked suddenly, startling the swordsman from his thoughts and he felt heat coil in his stomach seeing that gaze on him again. For a moment he forgot how to speak, before remembering, and stuttered, trying to strong his thoughts together. 

"I'm training to be a police officer." he said, finally. "If I have to chase someone on foot, I'd like to be able to catch up. No point in running after them if I know I'm too slow anyways."

Sanji gave a little laugh. It was non-provoking, purely amused and Zoro felt himself fall, just a little. "And what?" The pale teen asked, long lashed fluttering down to touch his cheeks before rising again. And holy shit Zoro was really out _bad._ And after only three weeks. "You gonna slice them down with your swords, like the guy from the movies?"

He smirked, choosing not to answer and scoffed at Sanji's playful groan of irritation. 

"Seriously Marimo? I was joking. You know that right?"

Zoro lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. "Not my fault. Your words not mine."

The blond opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted, a light voice interjecting. 

"I'm sorry!" The girl said, and Zoro looked over, seeing the waitress from earlier. She wore her hair in pigtails, and a low cut top that did nothing to hide her cleavage. Sanji was on her in a second, spewing compliments almost more fluently than he cursed. The girl was clearly enjoying it, her face lighting up in a blush that even the swordsman could admit was attractive. 

Something about her was off though. Something he didn't like. A sliver of calculation in her chocolate gaze, not unlike the witch's but much, _much_ colder. It was in the way she held herself. As someone with a purpose. 

Maybe sensing his stare, she spared a glance at him and her eyes hardened a fraction, before disappearing so quickly he wondered if he imagined it. 

"My name is Pudding." she said with a cute smile, once the blonde's declarations of love died down. "And I'll be your waiter for the day!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song I used for Nami and Zoro is called "One Hell of A Team"  
> You should listen to it! It has a good mix of rock and pop, which i feel matches Nami and Zoro's vibe  
> I'll put the lyrics here though!
> 
> You stitch your dreams, but they'll never hold  
> You're falling by the wayside  
> Falling by the wayside  
> Down you go  
> There is so much you could be  
> Endless possibilities  
> Shake my hand, don't be naive  
> Now you can trust me  
> I see potential in your future, we can agree  
> I have credentials that you don't, your want is a need  
> So if you'd like to try and help us, baby, redeem  
> Can't you hear it in my voice?  
> I don't understand what's in it for you  
> There's no motive, I just wanna make your dreams come true  
> So why does my heart tell me not to trust, you're only bad news  
> Well, maybe you should smile, you're never fully dressed, it's your debut  
> Now hang the banners, welcome all those on the outside  
> I'll show compassion and they'll see their future's in sight  
> Yeah, nothing can go wrong, our deal is sealed air tight  
> If you wanna feel alive  
> We could set the world alight  
> There is so much you could be if only you'd join me  
> We make one hell of a team  
> You are wicked like a torturous dream  
> Like a sweet calamity  
> There is so much you could be if only you'd join me  
> We make one hell of a team  
> You're really quite persuasive  
> A killer salesman, you try but you cannot hide  
> Your inner demon, I know my dreams are hopeful  
> But they're not stupid, you treat me like a child  
> Lost in delusion  
> But I see you, all of you, clearer than I ever have  
> Stone cold, with no soul, loneliness your only friend  
> Get it in your head, you're never gonna change me  
> (No, I only wanna set you free)  
> If you wanna feel alive  
> We could set the world alight  
> There is so much you could be if only you'd join me  
> We make one hell of a team  
> You are wicked like a torturous dream  
> Like a sweet calamity  
> There is so much you could be if only you'd join me  
> We make one hell of a team  
> I'm not who you see  
> I know my destiny and  
> That girl you see  
> Will stay a dream  
> You're stuck somewhere between and  
> You're fraying at the seams and  
> The girl you wanna be  
> Will stay a dream  
> No  
> If you wanna feel alive  
> We could set the world alight  
> There is so much you could be if only you'd join me  
> We make one hell of a team  
> You are wicked like a torturous dream  
> Like a sweet calamity  
> There is so much you could be if only you'd join me  
> We make one hell of a team  
> We make one hell of a team  
> Make one hell of a team
> 
> I decided to put Nami's backstory in a side fic called Romance Dawn. It likely won't post for a while, but just keep it in mind if you're interested!
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts! <3
> 
> ZoSan Next chapter. Seriously.  
> I promise. And I mean ZoSan centric xfvfidvjdvd


	10. The Not Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shortest chapter in this whole thing  
> sorry ;-;

"Pudding?" Sanji questioned, observing the girl with a contemplative expression. "That sounds familiar."

From across of him, Zoro let out a mocking snort, arms folded neatly across a broad chest. "Probably because it was what you ate last night." 

"Shut _up."_ He growled slightly, resolving to _not_ tell the damn idiot that that _was_ in fact what he had for dessert after dinner the night before. He flashed a quick, apologetic smile to the server, wondering if another compliment would sooth her. She gave him a tentative smile, brown eyes flashing with just a bit of hurt and Sanji felt his heart melt. "This tasteless neanderthal just doesn't like sweet things, is all." Sanji said with a wink. "You might be a bit too much for him, he hardly knows how to act."

Pudding grinned, giggling behind her hand, a small, flattering flush gracing her cheeks and oh _man oh fuck_ , Sanji went through this more than 8 days out of the week but he was _smitten._ And maybe he was looking too deep into it, the way he normally did, but she seemed interested _back._ No girl fluttered her eyelashes that many times in a row unless she was into him or had some sort of medical issue. 

"Oi." Zoro cut in the middle of their silent flirting and the blond turned, cocking his head to the side because _oh yeah,_ there was a perfectly-- admittedly _more--_ attractive person sitting right across from him. Strange. Maybe Sanji's game had started to get better and he just hadn't realized it. How'd that quote go? The best way to get something was to stop trying to get it? Huh. Guess it had some merit. 

Zoro's eyes were narrowed, golden orbs practically slits and he studied Pudding with an eerie focus. He leaned forward, resting elbows on the table, arms rippling and dragon tattoo moving as though it were actually alive. "Maybe this idiotic bloody-nosed bastard is on to something. You're face is utterly forgettable, but your name's starting to ring a bell." The swordsman grinned in a way that was half flirtatious, half threatening. Sanji watched with widening eyes as Zoro parted his lips, poking out his tongue in a cheeky smirk. Though what got his attention the most was the glint of silver right in the middle. "It's right on the tip of my tongue, see? So tell me, who _are_ you?"

A piercing. A mother fucking _piercing._ Fuck his throat was dry. Sanji's nose couldn't take all this pressure. He sniffed loudly, hoping to keep it all at bay. 

Pudding let out a light cough, her eyes shifting away from Zoro and he thought he caught something cold in her gaze. She blinked and it was gone. "I'm sorry, love, I'm afraid I've already told you. My name is Pudding and I'm your waitress." 

"Right, and last I checked most people had missing middle names, not last names." The green haired teen drawled with lidded eyes. 

_Fuck, this man is sexy._ Sanji thought, struggling not to make his staring to obvious. The girl shuffled her feet, stiffening and looked uncomfortable. 

"I'd much rather not talk about it sir. Please forgive me." 

The blond eyed Pudding with a sensation of sympathy. She clearly was unsettled by her last name, and didn't like it for whatever reason. _I can relate._ He sat up straight, a wave of protectiveness flowing over him. "Leave her alone, Marimo. She's here to serve us-- though it really _should_ be the other way around for a goddess such as herself-- and not for anything else, let alone anything personal. Drop it." 

The racer could tell he was serious, holding his gaze for a long moment before turning away, mouth tilted down in irritation and displeasure flowing off in waves. 

"Tch. Whatever Curlybrow. You brought me here, order for us both." 

Sanji couldn't resisted and reached over, tapping Zoro on his nose playfully. "Such a feisty Marimo. It's kind of cute." 

The green haired teen scowled, shaking his hand away and furrowing his eyebrows, fixing Sanji with playful glare. "You're insufferable." 

"Damn right." He responded, then glanced at the girl. "Ah sorry my dearest for ignoring you. Please bring us your favorite dish from here please! I'm sure I'd love anything you brought out."

Pudding smiled, something in it that he couldn't at all read. Then she was gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> got a question for you all.  
> would you prefer I keep the next chapter ZoSan centric?  
> Or would you not mind if I added in some LawLu??
> 
> Personally I'm leaning towards adding in the Lawlu, but I don't mind either way. It really doesnt too much affect the actual plot stuff

**Author's Note:**

> Well, what'd you think? Keep going?


End file.
